The Tension and The Spark
by Molvanian Queen-In-Exile
Summary: Severus thought that having to teach sexual education was bad enough, but, when the class number is found to be uneven, he finds himself in an even worse predicament: paired with Hermione Granger!
1. Darkness

**A/N-** I'm baaaack...A lot of you won't know me, due to my dalliances with HP/SS (**Please don't run away**!), and I will be upsetting those of you who do know me, because this fic is SS/HG in nature. Le sigh. Still, I hope you enjoy this...

**Summary-** Severus thought that having to teach sexual education was bad enough, but, when the class number is found to be uneven, he finds himself in an even worse predicament; paired with Hermione Granger!

**NB- **I've seen a few of these where Draco and Hermione are partnered, and even a couple where Draco and Harry are, so, naturally, I wanted to try something original...ish. It goes without saying, though, that HBP never happened here. Titles (including story title) are from Darren Hayes' _The Tension and The Spark_. BRILLIANT Album from a once-local (to me, at any rate) boy. Okay, so Logan's the next city up from Brisbane…that's very petty. He's still local to me. Well, not now that he's in San Fran in the states…Er…I'm rambling, aren't I?

**WARNING**: There WILL be mentions of Mpreg and Slash, though, as I've said, the focus is on SS/HG.

**WARNING 2: **For those of you still interested, I must warn you that this is certainly not HBP compliant. Many characters are OOC, though I've attempted to make them believably so. Please, post a review if you think this might be improved somewhat.

* * *

To say that Severus Snape was upset with his employer was an understatement. He stood before the elderly wizard, a scowl marring his features.

"I refuse."

Albus' eyes twinkled merrily. "My dear boy, you cannot refuse." The underlying message that he owned the former spy didn't need to be vocalised to be heard. Ignoring Snape's darkening expression, he continued on jovially; "Minerva feels that she can no longer manage the job...And, as the youngest staff member, we feel that the students would best relate to you."

Raising an aristocratic eyebrow, Severus stared. Surely Dumbledore couldn't believe he'd accept _that_ pitiful excuse!

However, when the manipulative old fool next spoke, it appeared that he did. "You can retrieve the curriculum documents from Minerva after dinner this evening."

"You cannot be serious!"

"I've never been more serious," Dumbledore was curt. "Good day, Severus."

The Potions master nodded in acknowledgement of the dismissal; "Albus." He turned swiftly and left the room with grace, his robes billowing behind him.

The older man had generally been seen by most people to be sweet, doddering and kind, but Severus had always known better. He'd been well aware of the old wizard's Slytherin heritage; that which he kept hidden from the bumbling wizarding public.

_Imagine_, he thought scathingly, _the hero of the unwashed masses, a Slytherin!_

Severus scowled to himself. If his father hadn't left him damn near penniless, with the only exception being the crumbling old Snape Manor, he wouldn't _need_ Albus and his bloody job at all! Certainly, he might have been able to make a substantial income by selling potions alone, but it was a volatile market, and there weren't too many retailers that would market potions brewed by a rumoured death eater. As it was, the majority of his clients were shady characters themselves! They weren't exactly the types you'd appreciate vouching for you when you were attempting to make a wholesome name for yourself...So he was stuck at this bloody school teaching dunderheads like Potter and Longbottom, and being threatened, constantly, by his employer to do the most degrading things...

Which, essentially, is where he had yet again found himself that afternoon.

"Bunny Slippers." He hissed upon reaching his chambers. The password was pathetic, yes, though no student would ever consider it when attempting to break in. (Not that they often did, mind you...It was merely a precaution in the event of another set of students like the Weasley Twins gracing the school's halls.)

Entering his living-room, he dropped unceremoniously onto the couch and summoned a stiff drink. "Damn that manipulative old fool!" He cried, downing the amber liquid and heaving the glass at the nearest wall. It shattered on impact, sending hundreds of shards flying. How _dare_ he do this to him? Hadn't he, Severus, done more than enough for the bloody _Order_ to relinquish his debt? The light had won, Potter and his minions had saved the day, and he, himself, had only narrowly escaped death on his final mission as a spy. And yet, judging by their most recent meeting, it appeared that the headmaster still felt he was owed more.

Summoning another drink, Snape continued to fume. He was, thankfully, no longer required to teach junior potions, as that job had been passed on to a new, insignificant staff member. Instead, while still teaching NEWT level potions (that was, 6th and 7th years), he had been allocated a new subject, one that had been Minerva's task until now.

Sexual Education.

It was a bloody joke! He, Severus Snape, the most despised professor in the school, was expected to teach Sexual Education to the 7th years! Didn't it require some finesse? Some compassion? Mutual-_bloody_-Trust?

Albus was _clearly_ looking for a reason to have him dismissed. He was finished using the spy...now it would be fun to torture him until he snapped and did something so atrocious that he'd be asked to leave! That sounded incredibly Slytherin and very much like the headmaster, to Severus at any rate.

_So,_ the Potions Master thought to himself, _if he expects me to snap, I will simply have to do the opposite_. Though it would be painful, Severus would throw himself into this task with vigour. He would not complain. Dumbledore would _not _win on this one! In fact, if Snape were to pull this off successfully, the old fart might have a coronary from shock.

Severus smirked to himself.

_Yes_, he decided, _Dumbledore would have to try a little harder if he wanted to break the ex-spy._

Little did he know that the old wizard had already thought ahead...

**-?-**

A week later, at the sorting feast, the seventh years of Hogwarts were instructed to stay behind. When the last of the lower years had left the Great Hall, the students were somewhat surprised when Snape rose from the Head table and made his way to the center of the 'stage', where the podium had reappeared.

"Welcome back, seventh years..." He spoke, having already performed the sonorous charm. "Though I am certain you wish to enjoy your final night of freedom, there is a matter we-" he gestured to the staff behind him "-feel we must discuss." He paused for dramatic effect, choosing that moment to observe the smaller-than-usual cluster of students.

The war had reached its climax and had taken its toll the previous year. The school had been attacked and the sixth and seventh years had stood beside the staff, the Order and numerous aurors to fight the good fight. Only a few students had lost their lives, it was true, though, when the first had fallen, it had already been one too many.

He drew himself from his reverie and continued on. "As you would be well aware, your final year of compulsory schooling is aimed towards preparing you for life as an adult. With that being the case, you will be undertaking a new subject alongside the rest of your studies." He paused again, this time for the obligatory groans and whispers. Naturally, the Granger girl seemed to be the only student _pleased_ by the thought of more work. He gathered himself once more. "However, unlike your other studies, you will find that this subject, for the most part, is competency based. The only grades, aside from the final essay, that you will receive will be simply a pass or fail."

Out in the hall, at the Gryffindor table, Ron heaved a sigh of relief. "Can't be too hard then, eh?"

A collective "_Shh_!" was his only response.

Oblivious, Snape kept on going. "I will be taking you for this subject and, yes, I _will_ be assessing your progress."

Ron, along with many other students, felt his heart drop. "Bugger."

Hermione kicked his shin from across the table and glared, before turning her attention back to the professor.

"...To answer the question you are no doubt asking yourselves, this subject has been titled 'Sexual Education', though it is more a course in domestic studies."

Severus stopped and patiently waited for the sniggers and whispers to slow, knowing that the Headmaster was looking for any chance to pounce. He smirked to himself. This 'New Snape' would be annoying the hell out of old Albus...

Coincidently, the old man had pulled himself from his seat and had taken over.

_Good_. It just showed he was frustrated, as he should very well have been.

"Thankyou, Professor Snape, for your very fine introduction," Dumbledore twittered, his eyes twinkling. He turned back to the students, "You will notice on your timetables a spare double lesson has been allocated after breakfast on mondays and wednesdays, as well as another single lesson on a friday afternoon. These will be used for your work in this subject and, on some days, they will be classes which you _must_ attend. The first of these is tomorrow morning, and we expect each and every one of you to be here." He grinned at the seventh years, "After all, we will be allocating you into pairs for your assessment."

The students began to whisper amongst themselves again. Snape didn't need to guess as to what they were discussing. What kind of assessment? Who would they be partnered with? Why was the greasy git taking them for Sexual Education, of all subjects?

"But, alas, we have kept you long enough...Off to bed with you, and may you all have pleasant dreams."

Severus forced a tight smile at the Headmaster after the seventh years had filed out. "Thankyou, Albus. Though, I wonder, what was the point of asking me to take the class? Clearly, _you_ wish to instruct them, if your enthusiasm is anything to go by."

The older wizard chuckled. "Old habits die hard, child."

Snape nodded, observing the suspicious glimmer in his employer's eye. "That they do, Albus." He glanced at the muggle analogue watch on his wrist, thankful for its invention. The bulky wizarding wall clocks were useless to Potions makers and Masters alike. "And on that note, I must excuse myself. I have an important potion simmering that requires my immediate attention."

"Do not work too hard, my boy." The Headmaster responded, patting him jovially on the shoulder. "Tomorrow will be quite the day."

As Severus nodded by way of acknowledgement, he couldn't help but wonder at the Headmaster's tone. Something wasn't quite right, he decided, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach, and he was absolutely certain that the first class of the year would be far more complicated than he'd originally assumed...

**-?-**

"So," Ronald Weasley said, plopping down on a chair in the Gryffindor common room, "What do you reckon's worse? The fact that we've got more work this year, or the fact that we've got more Snape?"

Harry sniggered. "I'm leaning t'wards the Snape thing..."

"Harry Potter!" Hermione cried, sounding utterly scandalised. "After everything that man has done for you, and for _the Order," _these last two words were almost whispered, "how can you be so childish?"

Ron snorted. "That's right...I forgot you've got a thing for the git-"

"I do NOT have a 'thing', Ronald!"

"Nah, you're right...You _fancy_ him!"

Her expression darkened. "You're forgetting that I can take points for the disrespect you're showing towards a professor."

She'd made Head Girl that year, which wasn't all that surprising to anyone. What _had_, however, surprised people was the Head Boy. Gregory Goyle, of all people, had walked away with that one. Harry and Ron were still sore about it.

The redhead rolled his eyes. "C'mon, 'Mione, I'm just taking the piss..."

"Well don't make _me_ your target."

"But it's funny..." That was, perhaps, a stupid response.

Blinking a few times, Hermione scowled. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?" But, before he could respond, she huffed her way from the room, refraining -only barely- from slamming the portrait shut on her way out.

The youngest Weasley male turned to his best friend, clearly perplexed. "What'd I say?"

Harry shook his head.

**-?-**

Hermione stormed down the corridor that led to her rooms. They were, she decided, the best reward for all those years of hard work. Privacy. Peace and quiet. Her own bathroom. Heaven. Pure bliss. Naturally, the common room was to be shared with the Head Boy, but everything else was all hers. It was just what she needed, especially after incidents with Ron.

She sighed. The arguments had already started. That was definitely a bad sign.

"Dungbomb." Her nose crinkled in distaste at the password as she spoke it. They had to change it. It was far too simple. _Perhaps for Goyle's benefit_, she mused.

_Speak of the devil_, she thought as she entered. He was seated on the couch, a book in hand...

_A book!_ Just _what_ was going on?

He looked up at the sound of the portrait shutting. "Granger," he greeted, his voice deep and smooth, sounding nothing at all like the grunt she'd expected.

Her shock must have been evident, because he laughed, taking her by surprise even more. "You talk!" She exclaimed, in hindsight, quite rudely. She had the grace to blush and put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry..."

Gregory shook his head with an amused grin and rose to his feet, towering above her. "S'alright," he said, "Most people've reacted the same way." He shrugged, "Now the ruddy war's over I can be m'self." He extended a large hand. "Gregory Goyle."

Still feeling somewhat overwhelmed, she shook his hand. "Er, Hermione Granger...What do you mean you can be yourself?"

He laughed again and sat down, gesturing for her to do the same. "You know, for the smartest chit in the school, you're a bit dense..." She frowned and he grinned. "I meant nothin' by it, I swear."

"Uh huh," she replied, nonplussed. "You were saying?"

"Well, I was always taught to act the fool," he told her, " 'cos everyone trusts an idiot...In times of war, the people that lose their lives are the suspicious and sly...If you're seen as a bumblin' oaf, you _can't possibly_ be sly or cunnin'...You're not a threat to the person in power, so you're not in danger of losin' your life for suspected treachery."

Hermione blinked at him. "So, you mean to tell me that you _pretended_ to be stupid and Malfoy's lackey all these years?" She paused a moment, "That's _ingenious_, if not incredibly self-degrading."

"We all do what we have to in desperate times." A rehearsed line, probably handed down by Dumbledore.

"That's very true..." Waiting a beat, she asked, "The professors were in on this, I take it?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'd hand in two assignments and do two exams each time...Was the only way to look stupid but to get good grades..."

"But the workload!" She gasped, aghast.

Chuckling, Goyle shrugged. "It's not that hard to write a Troll-grade essay, Granger. Not for people like us, anyway."

She smiled, feeling the tension from her argument with Ron drain away. "Good point." She cocked her head to the side, "Was Malfoy aware of your charade?" She winced at the way her words sounded. "What I mean to ask is-"

"Was he using me because he thought I was stupid or was he in on it too?"

She nodded, blushing ashamedly. "I'm sorry, it was incredibly rude of me to pry. You don't need to answer..."

"S'all good..." He assured her, summoning two mugs of hot chocolate -yet another privilege for the Heads. "Draco's a good friend. Has been all me life. It was awful that he had the worst part of everything...What with his parents actually being evil 'n all...It was expected that he be the same...When we were a lot younger -just before Hogwarts- he was over at my place…see, my parents were pretending to be loyal Death Eaters in order to keep tabs on the Malfoys, and he broke down...told me his father expected the Dark Lord to rise again...told me he was expected to get the mark...Told me he wanted nout of it. Told him I felt the same. So we came up with the plan to keep us safe..." His face fell and his demeanour darkened. "Crabbe joined us at Hogwarts, the little shit...He was pulling the same act as me, to spy on _us._ We never gave ourselves away. As far as he knew, we really did support you-know-'oo." Goyle's lips curled into a malicious grin. "So the irony of old Voldy killing _him _wasn't lost on us."

Suddenly realising just how difficult things must have been for those innocents growing up in the Slytherin camp, Hermione felt a wave of guilt crash upon her. Forgetting herself, she placed a petite hand on the large, muscular boy's arm. "I'm sorry," she said. "If we'd have known..."

He closed his hand over hers. "Draco tried, you know, in first year...He was going to tell Potter, explain everything. We'd have really liked to be secret friends with him..." His large brown eyes met with Hermione's. "Draco _had_ to act as he did around the three of you. We both did. You understand that, right?"

The Gryffindor felt incredibly torn. After all, she'd taught herself to hate the blonde Slytherin and his cronies for six years, and now she was essentially being asked to forgive and forget?

_If you don't you'll be acting as childishly and narrow-mindedly as Ron was_, the voice of reason nagged in her head.

She sighed. "I understand," she eventually answered, smiling at the look of relief that swept across the Slytherin's face.

"Always knew you were a bright one, Granger."

"That's a pity," she told him, pushing herself to her feet. "I would have liked to have known the same about you." She yawned, suddenly feeling the day catch up to her. "Well, Gregory, it was a pleasure to meet you, properly, I mean, and thankyou for...well...for being kind enough to tell me such personal things..."

"The pleasure's all mine, Granger." He smirked. "Now get to bed...We're sure to get a few surprises in the morning." He was, of course, referring to their Sexual Education class, and the way he spoke implied that he knew more than he was letting on.

Curious, Hermione bid him goodnight and made her way to bed.

_Surprises_? She thought as her head hit the pillow. _I wonder what he meant_...

But she was asleep before her brain could process the rest of their conversation.

**-?-**

"Mornin'," Gregory greeted the next day when Hermione emerged from her rooms.

She grinned. "Good morning. Why aren't you at breakfast?"

"Thought it'd be pretty rude if I took off without you."

She smiled, feeling touched. Ron had never waited for her before. She knew Harry had tried, on occasion, but had been dragged off by others. "You didn't have to."

"I know."

She observed him for a moment. "Is Malfoy as nice as you? I mean, if you were both faking it, for whatever reasons, is he as different as you are?"

"How's about you find out for yourself?" Another voice, this one familiar, asked, emerging from Goyle's rooms. Draco looked to his friend. "You're a lucky bastard, you are. Here am I, stuck with the prefect bathrooms, and you have _that_." He gestured behind him. He shifted his attention back to Hermione. "You've got the same set up, I'd imagine."

She nodded, unsure of how to handle the lack of malice in his tone and gaze. She couldn't help grinning, though, when he folded his arms over his chest and frowned like a petulant child. "I demand the right to drop by whenever I want."

"Er...right..." she managed.

He arched an eyebrow. "What's the matter, Granger, kneazle got your tongue?"

Ah, he still had the acerbic wit. She gathered her thoughts. "Well, it _is_ a shock to the system, spending time in your presence without hearing the word 'mudblood'..." She smirked at him. "A pleasant shock, mind you."

"Indeed," he said, sounding very much like their Potions professor.

_Speaking of_..."Oh, Merlin, we're going to miss breakfast! Not to mention the fact that we'll be late for Professor Snape's class!"

The two boys rolled their eyes, reminding Hermione of Harry and Ron.

"We'll be fine, Granger. Summon an elf on the way, ask for a piece of toast, and eat it before class."

Malfoy's suggestion would have to do, she decided, summoning Dobby. He happily brought her an apple and some toast and she ate it as they made their way to the hall.

Harry and Ron glanced up as she entered, identical looks of horror upon their faces when they saw her laughing at something one of the Slytherins had said. She broke away from the other boys and dropped down at the Gryffindor table moments before Snape appeared at the podium.

"Good morning," he said, the bland sentiment taking them by surprise. It appeared he wouldn't be as awful to them as he had in previous years.

Hermione looked across the hall towards Goyle and Malfoy, then back at Snape. _Another example of a war stifled personality_? It didn't seem very probable. Perhaps Snape had realised the sensitive nature of this subject? Maybe Dumbledore had drummed that into him? _That_ seemed likely enough.

"As we discussed last night, you are being prepared this year for life as a responsible adult. And while I feel that _some_ of you should have been sterilised at birth-" here he looked disdainfully towards Harry and Ron, "- this subject aims to introduce you to domestic life with wives, husbands and, most importantly, children."

Hermione watched him in silence, ignoring the whispers of her peers. She felt her heart race when he told them of their assessment. They were to be paired with a compatible partner -the sorting hat would choose- and would then be put through a mock child-rearing ordeal. Naturally, with the aid of magic, this would be incredibly realistic, and they would be required to keep journals and write an analytical exposition for their graded assessment.

It was unlike anything she'd encountered before, and suddenly she felt nervous. She'd excel in the theory, she always did, but in practice? You couldn't _learn_ maternal instincts. You couldn't be _taught_ how to look after a child.

The professor was talking again, and she forced herself to listen. "It is also important for those of you who have been muggle-raised to note that male-pregnancy can occur if wizards are coupling. Magic, as you well know, is complex and intricate and it runs through your veins. So, for those of you whom happen to be of homosexual persuasion, do not assume that an accidental pregnancy will never be possible. It is as possible between two wizards as it is a wizard and a witch. Two witches may even conceive, if the magic -and arousal- between them is strong enough."

He continued on, explaining that if two compatible wizards or witches are discovered, by the sorting hat, to be of the same persuasion, it was likely they would be paired together. Yes, it meant that there was a possibility that 'closeted' wizards and witches would be 'outed', but this course was designed to prepare them for their lives after school, and not someone else's. It would be like living a lie for some, if they were forced to pair with another person of an incompatible gender. Hence, if you had secrets, you'd best prepare yourself for the worst. Even hidden crushes, where compatible, would most likely be revealed. After all, vague attraction from both parties was essential in the base level of compatibility. It wouldn't be the be-all and end-all, but attraction would have to be present for partners to be considered compatible and, inevitably, placed together.

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief; there was nothing the Hat could do to her that would display her secrets to the school.

"Line up and, when your name is called, place the Hat on your head. Once everyone has been read partners will be called."

Professor Dumbledore brought in the Sorting Hat, and Severus eyed it suspiciously, daring it to break into song. When it refrained from doing so, Severus' suspicions grew. The lesson was going rather well; Dumbledore was clearly planning something vile.

Names were called and students stepped forward to be analysed. The entire process took three quarters of an hour, with some students barely touching the hat before being told it was done and others sitting beneath it for minutes at a time.

When the final student -a Hufflepuff- had returned to her seat, Dumbledore took over.

He placed the hat on its customary stool, and announced that the partners would be called. Shooting a knowing glance at the Potions Master, he then informed the class that they were not to complain if their partner was someone they didn't know, or didn't quite get along with all the time, as the Hat deemed them compatible, and clearly read some level of pre-existing attraction from both parties. He also muttered something under his breath that neither Severus nor the students caught, but the Hat had opened what represented its mouth, and the partners were declared, allowing the students to stand and wait in a line for the next phase, as directed.

"Weasely, Ronald!" The Hat eventually cried, naming the first of the Terrible Trio.

Severus watched the boy straighten his back and eye his potential partners.

"And," the Hat continued, "Abbott, Hannah."

The Weasley boy heaved a sigh of relief before bounding over to the line.

The next couple was relatively insignificant, just the Parkinson girl and a Ravenclaw boy. And Severus couldn't even remember teaching the two witches paired after that.

The numbers were thinning by the second and he received a jolt of shock when "Potter, Harry!" was paired with "Goyle, Gregory!" Though it _was_ interesting to see Weasley have a conniption. Granger looked mildly taken aback, but merely arched her eyebrow when the near-behemoth shot her a 'told you so' look.

Speaking of the know-it-all, she was the only girl left seated. Amongst...one...two..._two_ boys. And, upon closer inspection, he recollected that he'd caught those same two boys in an abandoned classroom doing inappropriate things with one another the previous year. Which left "Granger, Hermione!" with...

"Snape, Severus!" Exclaimed the Hat.

He reeled backwards. Merlin, no!

The cry flew from his lips at the precise moment as it did the Granger girl.

"Headmaster!"

**-?-**

"This is utterly preposterous!" Severus paced the Headmaster's office, completely livid.

The Granger girl's eyes blazed as she nodded. "I concur, Professor. A relationship -even a mock relationship- between a student and teacher is expressly forbidden by the school charter and-"

Albus shook his head. "Recently amendments have been made to the charter, to allow equal opportunities for all students taking part in this assessment-"

"_Why _would you do such a thing?" Snape hissed. "This is immoral and highly unfair for the both of us. I wasn't even made aware of my details, my _personal information_, being placed into the hat! And the students weren't notified of the possibility..." He trailed off. "You've gone too far this time, Albus!"

"Now, now, my child..." Dumbledore wasn't at all fazed by this tirade, "All of the staff were entered into the system. The numbers of students were uneven...It was lucky that there was a match made at all. Luckier still that it is a believable match."

"Have you gone _completely insane_? She is 20 years my junior! She is my student! She is _Potter's_ little girlfriend and a Gryffindor! Not that this should even be an issue, but _how_ is a match between us even vaguely believable?"

"You are both brilliant academics, my boy. You both strive for success and knowledge...You are both also quite stubborn and hot tempered, which insinuates that you are both rather passionate souls, and, clearly, you must find each other somewhat attractive if the hat found you suitable for one another…" Albus stared down the bridge of his nose. "Should I continue?"

"No, sir, I'm willing to wager that neither the Professor nor I wish to hear any more." Hermione avoided Severus' gaze, her cheeks burning.

The Potions Master's cheeks were flushed, too, though his with anger where hers were tinged with embarrassment. "With no offence to our _esteemed _Head Girl, I wish to correct your assumption that there is even the slightest possibility that I might find her attractive. She is my _student_, for Merlin's sake! If I were to have noticed anything about her physical appearance, I'd have resigned by now! I am _not_ a lecherous old man, and I take offense that you might even suggest it."

And if all of that wasn't enough, he hardly believed that a 17 year old would even consider looking twice at him in that manner. He was the Greasy Git. The Bat of the dungeons. His hair was lank and oily, his teeth crooked and yellowing, and his nose incredibly off skew. No young woman in her right mind would think of him as physically appealing. Not when surrounded by young men like the Malfoy boy. A spitting image of his father, Draco Malfoy had the ability to make any girl swoon. It was an ability Severus never possessed, not even in his youth. Certainly, as he aged, his reputation as an extremely able lover began to turn heads where his looks could not…but, here at Hogwarts, he kept news of his _talents_ hidden. He had no compulsion to chase his students, after all.

Albus had taken some time to ponder his response. Perhaps that meant that he, Severus, and the Granger girl were saved. However, his hopes were dashed when the old fool finally spoke.

"Severus, my boy, in your circumstance it was not Miss Granger specifically the hat found you attracted to, but, rather, she must have fallen into the criteria of physical traits you see appealing when you do go on the prowl." His eyes were twinkling annoyingly. "I realise that you are both uncomfortable by this revelation, however, the decision has been made and cannot be reversed. Severus, you will not be required to teach this subject after all. In fact, you will not be allowed to teach Miss Granger full stop. Instead, you will take on the role as her partner. She requires one, after all, in order to pass the subject."

Snape glowered. How _dare_ the old man threaten her so! Afterall, this was a compulsory subject, and, were a student to fail, they would not graduate, and would be forced to repeat; something which he knew would crush the Granger girl. Though he'd kept it to himself, she was the one female student in this particular year's graduating class whose work and dedication he admired. Though her 'know-it-all' attitude had once irked him, he now thrived for those moments in his classroom. One single student with enthusiasm for his subject existed, and made teaching those classes seem almost worthwhile. But now…Now the headmaster was taking that away, and placing them both in an awkward and, by all accounts, unfair situation.

"Damn you, Albus. Can you not foresee the ridicule she will face?" He spun to look at the girl he was being forced upon. Her cheeks were red, her gaze towards her feet…She was uncomfortable, humiliated and most likely close to tears. A wave of sympathy washed over him. It was not fair for an innocent child to be brought into his and the headmaster's petty games. In that moment, he knew that he would not allow himself to be played by the old fool any longer. If the man wanted him to leave, he would. But it would be on his own terms.

A plan forming in his mind, Severus nodded in acknowledgement of Albus' silence. "Very well, Headmaster. I can see that neither of us has a choice in this matter."

The old man cocked his head. Was Snape going to quit? He was surprised when the next sentence spoken was quite the opposite.

"Come, Miss Granger. You must be informed of the rest of this subjects requirements. We cannot have our Head Girl suffering any more setbacks, can we?"

Startled, she looked up at him, processing his kind words. "No, Sir…Thankyou, Sir." She turned and faced the Headmaster, as if seeing him properly for the first time. His decidedly Slytherin darkness was now more than evident to the girl. "Good day, Headmaster." Her tone was crisp. "Thank you for shedding some light on this for me."

As Albus bid them both farewell, he could sense that not all would be going to plan after all…And that just would not do.

* * *

**A/N-** Right, let me know…do you want more? Is it absolute shite? What can I do to make it better? 


	2. I Like The Way

A/N- Thanks for the fantastic responses! I have decided to keep on going with this one (the plot bunnies made me do it!), and am typing my little heart out whenever I've got the chance. Just got my results for this semester back, too. Am sooo upset! I was _robbed_ of my HD (high distinction) for English Curriculum because of a bloody mistake (or two) on the exam (thus ended up on a Distinction…grr) and I am NOT impressed with my SOSE/History mark. I might actually go talk to the head of department, as I _know_ I'm better than a simple 'Pass'…Not to mention the fact that our tutor had NO idea what she was doing…le sigh I. Hate. SOSE.

Anyway, on with the show…

* * *

"Dungbomb." Hermione spoke the password to her new chambers with a sigh. Her first day had been somewhat trying. After the business with Dumbledore, which was heart breaking in itself (after all, she'd loved and respected him as a mentor, only to discover that his sweet and doddering nature was a façade), Snape had stormed back towards the dungeons and she had rejoined her class, only to be met with gossip, whispers and cruel jibes. Following this, a mock-pregnancy charm was cast upon the childbearing half of the class, and the seventh years were briefed on what would be required of them for the remainder of the year.

Once released from Sexual Education hell, Hermione spent the day avoiding the stares of her peers and trying her very best to ignore the callous comments in class. She'd pointedly skipped all meals (choosing, instead, to hide in the relative safety of the library) and was relieved to be able to slip away into her private rooms whilst everyone else was at dinner.

_Well_, she thought as Goyle glanced up from the couch, _almost everyone._

"Well, well, well…" He grinned up at her, in a friendly fashion. "Where've you been all day? Other than in classes, of course."

"Hiding." She replied, matter-of-factly, slipping down into the seat beside him.

He summoned an elf. "Please bring Miss Granger some dinner."

She rolled her eyes as the elf reappeared with a large platter of food. Famished, she ate it, then thanked her fellow Head.

"Not a problem," he responded, giving her a playful nudge. "Can't skip meals, now. You're eatin' for two, y'know."

"Oh, _charming_, Gregory."

He chuckled. "C'mon, Granger. Just tryin' to make you feel better. Cheer you up 'n all that…"

She sighed with a smile, and shook her head. "Sorry, Goyle…I might have found it amusing under other circumstances…" A vague recollection of the rest of the morning's events came back to her, and a slow, steady smirk spread across her lips. "Speaking of…Just how long have you been pining over our Mr Potter, hmmm?"

The Head Boy mirrored her smirk. "How long have _you_ been pining over _our_ Potions Prof.?"

_Touché._ She opened her mouth to deny it, but found that she no longer had the energy. Besides, Gregory Goyle, of all people, had all but admitted his attraction to Harry Potter. _And_ it was nice having someone to talk to about such things... Until that moment, she hadn't realised how lonely she felt, not being able to talk freely about her feelings with Harry and Ron…

Though she barely knew Goyle, she felt comfortable and safe expressing herself…How sad it was that she couldn't say the same about her two best friends…

With a resigned shrug, she responded honestly. "A while, actually…I've been relatively aware of my..." she struggled to find an appropriate word, "..._feelings, _I suppose, since last year…Not that it makes a shred of difference, of course."

Goyle nodded, unfazed by her honesty. "Felt the same way meself, 'til this mornin'. You heard what they said; mutual attraction had to be present…I reckon I might be in with a bit of a chance, now." He leant backwards, folding his hands behind his head. "I didn't even know he liked men, to be honest."

Hermione smiled wearily. "I've had my suspicions…Ron was, as usual, oblivious."

He laughed and she felt some of the tension of the day fade away. Her mind began its usual process of sorting through the day's events, and, coming upon the memory of the faux-pregnancy charm, she placed her hand upon her stomach and asked; "So, which of you gets the distinct pleasure of experiencing some of the symptoms of pregnancy?"

"That would be me other 'alf." Goyle smirked. "Shoulda' heard 'im go off at that!"

She giggled. "One more thing to add to his list of _things that make him different_, I suppose."

They then began to discuss the merits of the subject in a more serious, academic fashion. They spoke about the new teacher of the class, McGonagall, and the pros and cons of having her lead them rather than Snape. They spoke about the importance of experiencing a mock pregnancy and child-rearing ordeal, as well as the general social skills the class would instil within them. They then moved onto a discussion about the specifics of the faux-pregnancy charm.

Hermione thought the charm was ingenious. The bearer would experience a rather rapid version of pregnancy. They would experience watered down symptoms and so forth, and would even be able to feel the 'child' growing inside, though no external signs of the ordeal would appear. As with normal pregnancy, the symptoms would vary from person to person, as would 'delivery' times. Generally, the spell would run its course after five full weeks, however, this could vary, depending on the bearer and how well they took care of themselves. 'Medical checkups' were to be performed in alternate classes, though nobody would know the gender of their child until they pulled a card from a hat after the mock birthing process - which was, of course, a series of extremely light contractions and not much else. After all, there were _some_ things that were best left until the _genuine_ experience.

Over the five weeks of 'gestation', the partners were required to get to know each other as closely as possible. It was _this_ aspect of the assessment which Hermione dreaded. Professor Severus Snape wasn't exactly the most forthcoming person, nor did he seem the type to do tea and cakes and warm, lovey-dovey, chit-chat…especially not with his students! However, if it had to be done -which it did- Hermione would have to do her very best to get the man to open up to her. Which would be much easier said than done.

And so it was, then, that she found herself knocking on his office door on the next specifically designated spare.

"Enter." His voice commanded.

Pushing open the door, she did as told. "Professor Snape, I-"

"I know why you're here, Miss Granger. Shut the door and follow me."

Again, she complied without complaint. He led her into another room through a concealed doorway.

"My private quarters," he said by way of explanation, summoning tea and gesturing towards a well-worn couch. "Sit."

Feeling awkward, she smiled and accepted the proffered cup. "Thankyou, sir."

He was being awfully nice, for _Snape_ that was, so Hermione was instantly on edge. His sneer signalled that he seemed to be able to read her thoughts -without legilimancy.

"Honestly, you silly girl, I don't bite." He refrained from adding the word _'much'_.

Blushing furiously, she shook her head. "I know that, sir, but, I…" She sighed. "Forgive me, this is all just a bit awkward for me…"

"Indeed," he responded, glancing pointedly at her belly. "How are you feeling, physically?"

It had been three days since the charm had been administered, and students were beginning to complain about nausea, dizziness and faint spells.

Hermione smiled. "Nothing yet. Another day or so, I think…" She hesitated, considering things. "Unless, of course, I'm lucky enough to avoid the worst of it."

He nodded. "See me if that is not the case." After all, it wouldn't do to have the star pupil miss class for retching into the toilet.

She dipped her head in an odd combination of acknowledgement and embarrassment. "Thankyou…"

After another few moments of awkward silence, she continued. "Anyway, the task dictates that we should get to know one another somewhat." She crinkled her nose in distaste. "I find it highly inappropriate, to be honest with you, but…" She trailed off, shrugging. "There's no point fighting it now, is there?"

The look he pinned her with was sharp, and it made her skin crawl with its intensity. "What, your Gryffindor flair for fighting injustices is no more?"

She averted her gaze and struggled on with her original plan.

"I'm sorry, Professor. This shouldn't have been forced upon you...The Headmaster has quite the nerve..." She hesitated, gauging his reaction; after all, it was wrong to insult a teacher -particularly the Headmaster- in another teacher's presence. She shifted track, if only to be on the safe side. "Your situation is unfair and unjustifiable."

He snorted. _Compared to previous years in Albus' service,_ he thought, _this would be a walk in the park…_

Though it was irritating and somewhat degrading, his life _wasn't_ on the line, and he was _not_ being asked to rape and murder in return for scraps of vital information regarding a megalomaniac wizard.

_All in all,_ he decided, _Albus could have thought of much worse..._

The girl had naturally plowed onwards with her spiel.

"Still," she mused, "I can imagine how annoying it must be. I mean," she felt her face flush, "-you're an esteemed Potions Master…there are better, more important things you could be doing with your time than babysitting a seventh year."

Meeting her gaze, he rolled his eyes. "There are worse students to be babysitting, as you so eloquently put it." Taking another sip of his tea, he narrowed his eyes at her. "Repeat that to another soul -in particular Potter or Weasley- and you'll be serving detention for the remainder of your schooling career…_including_ university."

Having just taken a sip of her own drink, Hermione fought the giggle that erupted in her throat. _Had he intended that as a joke?_ She observed him surreptitiously over the brim of her cup, feigning another sip of tea.

His face was, as usual, impassive..._Nothing _gave his thoughts away. But he wasn't being scathing or cruel…and, more surprisingly, he was treating her as something akin to equal.

Perhaps these meetings wouldn't be quite so hard after all…

They spent the rest of their time discussing trivial likes and dislikes, as it was probably the safest ground to begin on. Hermione was mildly surprised to find that they shared opinions and tastes in the realm of literary and academic pursuits, in particular Muggle literature.

"Tolkien's works are rather well informed, for a Muggle…" The Slytherin was saying. "However, he, like most Muggles, embellished a few things…Pitiful, really…"

Hermione chuckled. "Put yourself in the Muggle reader's perspective, though. The world Tolkien paints is exciting and extended from any reality they know…It's _that_ which makes his writings so popular…" She leant back into her seat. "Besides, the Wizarding World has always been rather secretive…Perhaps he was paid off to keep it extraordinarily fictional?"

This elicited a wry smirk from her usually reserved Potions professor. "An interesting theory…Though, you are not the first to think of it, and it has, to this day, remained nothing more than a conspiracy theory."

Stirring her latest cup of tea thoughtfully, Hermione shrugged. "It's plausible, though…"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Perhaps…but it doesn't change anything."

"No," the Gryffindor replied, "It doesn't…"

Somehow, she didn't think they were discussing Tolkien anymore… Setting aside her cup, she glanced at her watch and sighed. "And on that note…" she pulled herself from her seat, "I'd best head off…"

Snape nodded and rose as well. "Indeed."

Hermione sent him a nervous smile; though their morning had been remarkably pleasant, she was still uncomfortable with the situation, and with him. He had a short fuse, and she didn't want to overstep any boundaries, even accidentally. "Thankyou for the tea, sir."

"You're welcome, Miss Granger."

She ducked her head and began to make her way from his chambers. Reaching his office door, she turned back; "Oh, and sir?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"It was…_nice_ talking to you today. I appreciate what you're doing for me."

Severus was somewhat surprised by the statement, and, on reflection, found that their conversation had been rather pleasant…far less excruciating than he'd anticipated, at any rate. "Quite." He eventually responded, watching her leave.

Perhaps his plan wouldn't be so hard to execute after all…

**-?-**

Who was this girl that had taken over her body? Hermione asked herself, as she strolled towards her next class, her time with the generally surly professor running through her head. She cringed at some of the crass comments she'd made…she blushed, realising that she'd been, on more than one occasion, openly _flirting_ with him! Oh, she hoped he hadn't noticed…It just wouldn't do to openly seduce her teacher!

Not that he was her teacher any more though, she mused. Dumbledore had taken that away from her. Her Potions lessons were conducted separately now, by the junior Potions Professor, who didn't have anywhere near the aptitude or knowledge that Sever -_Snape!_ possessed. She sighed at that. Perhaps, during one of their spare lessons together, she might pluck up the courage to ask for extra help…Dumbledore hadn't said that was forbidden, and she felt that the old man certainly didn't have the right to take away her scholarly privileges any more than he already had.

She quickly dismissed that train of thought; she wasn't yet ready to think of the Headmaster and his dark side.

Her musings turned, inevitably, back to her flirtings, accompanied by snippets from various recent conversations. Goyle's words, in particular, echoed in her mind.

_Mutual attraction...In with a chance..._

Suddenly she was wishing that the same applied to her situation. Which she knew was inappropriate and, above all, impossible.

She sighed wistfully. After all, the chance she'd been given was far more than she could have hoped for under 'normal' circumstances. That didn't make it any less wrong, mind you...it just fulfilled a little of the fantasy she'd been imagining for the past year or so...

"Knut for your thoughts?"

She was shaken from her reverie by none other than Harry Potter; one of the very people she'd been hoping to talk to at some point...Smiling, she shook her head. "Usual schoolwork musings..."

They fell into step with one another easily.

"That's my girl," he replied, "Always thinking about _something _constructive."

She rolled her eyes. "Actually, I was thinking about Professor Snape."

"Ah...So I should rephrase it a bit?" Harry asked. "Always thinking about problems?"

"Harry!" She swatted at his arm. "He's not a _problem_..."

"If you say so..."

She decided, rather wisely, to change the topic a little. "Speaking of Slytherin subterfuge... Gregory's been quite the surprise this year..."

"That he has..." Harry was rapidly turning a dark shade of red.

"Aesthetically _and_ intellectually."

" 'Mione..._please_..."

She gave him a quick hug. "I mean it, Harry...I think the hat's quite right pairing you two up...You'd make a fantastic couple..."

He smiled sheepishly. "You think so?"

"I wouldn't lie to you, you know that."

"Do I?" He quipped, grinning playfully.

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "Prat."

"You love me..."

She responded by placing a hand over her heart in a melodramatic manner. "Oh, Harry Potter, I love you, but I am destined to live alone...For you-" she muffled a mock sob "-you and I suffer from the same affliction. We both prefer men."

It was his cue to swat at her, now...They continued as such until they reached their Transfiguration classroom, whereupon they fell silent and entered respectfully. McGonagall would have their heads on a platter otherwise.

Ron entered moments later, avoiding his usual table and choosing, instead, to sit beside Seamus a few rows back. He pointedly ignored Harry's attempts to get his attention throughout the lesson, then fled from the classroom before Hermione or Harry could catch him.

"What was _that_ about?" The Boy Who Lived asked his female companion as they made their way to lunch.

Hermione shrugged, feeling somewhat hurt and confused. "Not a clue..."

"Oi! Potter, Granger! Wait up!" The two Gryffindors were vaguely surprised to discover Draco Malfoy chasing after them.

Hermione placed a cautionary hand on Harry's shoulder, but found that she needn't have bothered; clearly Goyle had already spoken to him about their war-time behaviour.

"Hurry it up then, Malfoy," The raven-haired boy spoke, "I'm starving!"

The Slytherin smirked. "That's right...You're the up-the-duff half..." He looked to Hermione. "At times like this, I'm glad I'm straight..."

"Git." Harry spat, light-heartedly. "The spell has nothing to do with my need to be fed..."

"That's true," Hermione agreed, matter-of-factly. "In fact, at this stage, you should be nauseous rather than ravenous..."

"Either way," The blonde responded, "I'm glad Patil gets the honour..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And how is Padma coping with it?"

"Wouldn't know, actually…" Draco replied, "Haven't spoken to her. Think she's avoiding me."

"Oh, no…"

Grey eyes sparkled at her. "It's not the end of the world, Granger…"

"But your marks-!"

"'Mione," Harry cut in, "Worry about your own results. Malfoy'll sort things out himself."

Feeling suitably chastised, Hermione dropped down at the Slytherin table across from Goyle. "Still…Padma needs to know that Malfoy's not quite the git we thought he was…"

Harry sat himself down next to the Head Boy. "That might be, but you can't go meddling…"

"I don't meddle!"

All three boys snorted at her. She scowled. "I _don't_." She folded her arms over her chest. "Besides, you two-" she gestured between Goyle and Malfoy, "-wouldn't know, would you?"

They shared a look. "We've taunted you enough to know what you're like, Granger." The blonde smirked, helping himself to a plate of food. "And we're more than certain that you're a meddler."

"You're prats, the lot of you."

They laughed.

Hermione sat back and watched Harry interacting with the other two, in particular Goyle. Their conversation flowed easily, and it was more than obvious that they were attracted to one another. She sighed; that was what she wanted. She wanted someone with whom she could talk about anything. She wanted someone that would be captivated by her, and that she would be captivated by in return.

This particular subject was clearly the catalyst for many of the Wizarding relationships that developed post-Hogwarts, and had probably been running for decades. After all, the divorce rate in the Wizarding world was quite low, and that could be attributed to the fact that most couples were entirely compatible with one another; something that this class ensured. Well, this was the case for everyone but her. After all, it was clear that Snape wasn't the man she'd end up with once she graduated. He was thrown into this assignment of hers without warning, and, though they had certain things in common, he was probably only deemed the most compatible staff-member for her by the hat because he was the youngest male on staff.

She wasn't naïve enough to believe that there was only one person out there for her, nor would she accept the 'soul mate' drivel that many of her peers babbled on about, but she'd once dreamed that there would be at least _one_ boy in the school that she'd get along with well enough to date or even settle down with for a little while after they'd graduated…but that was clearly not the case, and she couldn't help feeling a little cast out for it.

"Oi, 'Mione, you alright?"

She shook herself from her reverie and smiled up at her friend. "I'm fine, Harry…Just thinking."

He looked skeptical, but accepted the answer anyway, for which she was grateful. He was a good friend, though, and would probably drill her about it later in private.

On cue, her thoughts drifted to Ron and his odd behaviour. Searching the Great Hall for his hair, she spotted him at the Hufflepuff table, pushing the food on his plate around with his fork. He glanced up and met her gaze, glowering, before turning his attentions back to his plate.

Anger boiled her blood. _What was his problem?_ Hermione pushed herself up from her seat and made her way towards the Hufflepuff table, ignoring the enquiring looks from those around her. She was determined to get answers, whether Ron Weasley liked it or not.

"Ron," She said, approaching his side. "Can we talk?"

He craned his neck to observe her for a moment, before turning back to his friends. "Piss off."

Rage, red and raw, pulsed in Hermione's veins. "I _beg_ your pardon?"

He turned to face her directly. "I said," he enunciated, "Piss. Off."

Seeing red, Hermione leant forward and slapped him, before swiftly turning on her heel and marching from the Hall.

From his position at the Slytherin table, Harry frowned. "I wonder what happened there?"

Wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, Draco shrugged. "I'd say that Weasel should have gotten it years ago…" He touched his own cheek, remembering Hermione's strength from their third year. "Let me tell you, that chit can hurt."

Harry half-smiled at that, remembering the same incident, before standing. "I'd best go after her…"

Goyle rose and towered above him. "I'll let you into our rooms…She's probably taken refuge in there."

Malfoy helped himself to more food. "Behave, children…" He winked at them. "Don't do anything I'd do…"

Harry blushed red, and Goyle rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Potter. Granger's had a fair head start."

The Boy Who Lived nodded. "We'll check the library on the way through…"

**-?-**

Hermione clenched and unclenched her fists as she stormed through the castle. How _dare_ Ron be so awful! She'd done _nothing_ wrong, and yet he was treating her as if she deserved to be ignored. She shouldn't have hit him, though…After all, she was Head Girl, and slapping other students was not exactly setting a good example.

She was so consumed by her thoughts that she ran straight into a tall, solid mass of robes.

"Oomph!"

"Oh, I'm so…" She trailed off, completely mortified. Before her stood none other than Professor Severus Snape, and he didn't look very pleased with her. "Sir, I'm terribly sorry…"

"Silence." He hissed, eyes narrowed. "Aside from your foolish bumbling, you recently attacked a fellow student-"

"But-"

"I said _silence_. Surely you're not so stupid as to not understand a simple command."

She lowered her gaze, feeling her chest constrict. And they'd had such a pleasant conversation that morning…

Seemingly satisfied with her compliance, Severus continued. "You physically attacked another student. The Headmaster has requested that I, not your Head of House, _discuss_ this issue with you."

She raised her eyes to meet his. "Yes, sir."

"You will follow me to my office."

She nodded, and followed silently, all the while thinking that she would probably lose her badge, as well as any chance of passing Sexual Education…

They reached the office, and Snape sat behind his desk. "Sit."

She complied.

"Miss Granger," he began, "your behaviour in the Great Hall was unacceptable. 50 points have been deducted from Gryffindor as part of your punishment."

"Yes, sir."

He leant back in his seat. "You will also be required to serve detention, with me, every Friday evening for the term."

"Yes, sir."

"Have you anything to say for yourself?"

She glanced up at him. "I'm terribly sorry…I know I shouldn't have hit him…"

"However?" Snape prompted.

"He was being so cruel…I don't have any idea what I did to him to cause it…After all, this is only our third day here!" She averted her gaze, ashamed of her outburst. "I didn't expect him to be the way he was…the way he is."

Severus watched the emotions play out in the girl's eyes. She was nervous, guilty, ashamed and sad…that much was obvious in the way she spoke. But her eyes…they detailed detachment and longing…

_Damn that manipulative old fool_! This was all his fault!

The Weasley boy was clearly unimpressed with the Head Girl's 'choice' of partner…combine that with Potter and Goyle's seemingly successful partnership, and the red-headed, hot-tempered, Slytherin-despising teen felt betrayed by his closest friends…It was more than obvious, and would probably have been avoided, had Albus not meddled. The Granger girl might have decided to be a single-parent for the first phases of assessment…Merlin only knew.

So, going against the grain, and taking the Granger girl by surprise, Severus spoke out about his theory.

Hermione's expression darkened as the logic seeped into her brain. "Of _course_!" She seethed, more to herself than to Snape. "It makes sense! I mean…Harry and Goyle are, for all intents and purposes, really getting along well…Ron doesn't yet understand the fact that Malfoy and Goyle aren't quite who he thought they were…Add to that the fact that probably he thinks I'm loving being paired with a Professor…one he dislikes…" She slapped her thigh in indignation. "He probably believes all of the stupid rumours, too! '_She's been sleeping with him since third year…How else could she have gotten those grades? Nobody else does in Potions.'_ Or, my personal favourite, '_There's a reason she made **Head** Girl'_. Gah! Pathetic!"

"Quite."

Her eyes widened in surprise, as though she'd completely forgotten where she was, whom she was with, and why. Cheeks burning, Hermione spluttered an apology.

Severus ignored it. "I believe I've spent enough time in your company for one day, Miss Granger." He stated, his tone crisp. "I do not think I need to remind you to keep your hands to yourself."

Feeling sheepish, and vaguely hurt by his dismissal, Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry again, sir. Enjoy the rest of your day."

He remained silent as he watched her leave.

**-?-**

Hermione stumbled through the rest of the day, her mind a mess. A thousand and one thoughts swirled about, almost as though they were contained in a badly organized pensieve. Professor Snape was running hot and cold with her, perplexing her to no end. Ron was being a complete prick and refused to speak to her. And Harry…well…Harry appeared concerned…but he, too, seemed to be off in a bit of a daydreaming state.

She was relieved when the last class of the day was let out, allowing her to race to her rooms and avoid her peers.

Thankfully, when she arrived, Goyle was nowhere to be seen, which meant that she could head on up to her private quarters, run herself a relaxing bath, and pretend as though she had no troubles at all.

Unfortunately, her stomach had other plans.

She was feeling nauseous…not to the state of retching quite yet…but she didn't feel good at all.

_Damn stupid spell_!

Running herself the bath, she eased herself into the bubbles, praying for the heat to wash away the nausea. Closing her eyes, she sighed. This year was going to be hell. Between her conflicting feelings for Snape, arguing with Ron, watching Harry fall head over heels _and_, most importantly, her schoolwork and NEWTS, she would be absolutely buggered. And not in the most enjoyable sense of the word, either.

She wished that she could go back, preferably to the school holidays, where she had holidayed overseas and fallen in lust with a pool boy. He was two years her senior…tall…dark…and vaguely resembling one Severus Snape. Hermione smirked to herself. She'd given him her virginity and had returned from the holiday feeling thoroughly shagged out, and quite pleased with herself. The pool boy –Jackson- had probably felt much the same way.

But, those days were over and, though she didn't regret them, Hermione knew that it would probably be a long while before she could experience that euphoria again. And, by that, she didn't mean sexual euphoria, though that had been a plus, but, rather, the euphoria of feeling attractive, of feeling _wanted_.

Returning from her reverie, Hermione noted that the water was beginning to grow cool, and she knew she had homework to do before she could slink back into her dreams.

Pulling herself from the water, a wave of nausea and dizziness –far stronger than their predecessors- washed over her, taking her by surprising and causing her to fall backwards. She barely missed the corner of the vanity, which would have surely knocked her unconscious.

Landing with an 'oomph' on her backside, Hermione closed her eyes and waited for the dizziness to pass. _And these are **watered down** symptoms?_ She asked herself. _How awful_.

Feeling steadier, she pulled herself to her feet, wrapped herself in a towel, and made her way into her room.

Once dressed in her nightclothes, she summoned a house-elf and ordered a very light dinner. She wasn't certain she wanted to test her stomach just yet. A small bowl of soup arrived, with toast and juice, and she ate with caution, before turning her attentions to her homework.

An hour or so later, she yawned and stretched, savouring the feel of her muscles stretching. Perhaps it was time to retire…her stomach had been on its best behaviour, and she felt quite drained from the day she'd had…

Making the decision to go to bed early, Hermione drew back the blankets and lowered herself into the plush mattress.

She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

**-?-**

That Friday afternoon found her knocking on Professor Snape's door for their final allotted spare lesson of the week. She'd avoided him since the incident on Wednesday and she wasn't certain as to how this 'chat session' would go.

He opened the door, startling her from her thoughts, and ushered her inside.

"Sit." He commanded.

Apparently, they would no longer visit his quarters.

She sat, feeling a little upset at the thought, in front of his desk.

"Our topic for today shall be somewhat more personal than Wednesday's." Snape told her, sounding very much as though he was leading a class of bumbling first years.

She nodded, glad that he was still prepared to work with her for the assessment.

"We shall be discussing our histories, as it were. Birthdates, parents and siblings. And, to some degree, likes and dislikes of personal habits."

Hermione nodded again.

"For Merlin's sake Girl, are you a bloody marionette?"

His tone was not exactly cruel, but it wasn't very friendly either. Hermione felt tears well in her eyes. "I'm sorry, sir…" she replied. "I…wasn't certain you wished me to respond."

"No," he spat back, his tone laced with sarcasm, "We're here for _my_ benefit, aren't we?"

The Gryffindor forced herself to meet his eye. "Again, sir, I apologise…I've not had the best first week back, and I didn't want to put a foot out of line." Then, after a moment's consideration, she added; "Again."

Severus observed her silently. She sat before him, wringing her hands nervously, her eyes downcast. It was a far cry from the near-comfortable conversation they'd shared only a few days earlier. He must have shaken her up a fair bit that evening…but it couldn't be helped. He wasn't about to throw away his reputation because he felt somewhat sorry for the girl.

"Perhaps, Miss Granger, you should put your brain to some use and _think_ before you act." He smirked.

She scowled up at him. "With all due respect, _sir_, I've had enough time to think. And I think that you're treating me rather unfairly right now."

Her words caught up with her and she paled.

_Where had **that** come from?_ She asked herself. She'd never even _dreamt_ of giving a Professor lip before!

With a sigh, she made to apologise. It felt as though that was all she was doing these days. "Sorry, Professor…"

"No, Miss Granger, continue…" He purred, his tone deceptively calm. "You were about to tell me all about how unfair _I'm_ being."

Blushing, Hermione averted her gaze. "It's just that, well, Wednesday morning was quite nice. Your company was…" She searched for an appropriate word, "…pleasant. And now…" She shrugged, "It feels as though you're treating me as the reason for your problems." The infamous Gryffindor courage returned, and she met his gaze defiantly. "Which is unfair, because you made a fuss about how this is all Professor Dumbledore's doing, and that you felt I was as much a victim in this as you."

Severus sat back in his seat, and steepled his fingers. "And you feel you have the right to question me?"

"No, Professor…I don't have the right…"

He arched an eyebrow. "However?"

"However," she sighed, "I'm in so much trouble this semester already that I don't think standing up to you is going to make a huge difference."

"Do you think that wise?" There was an underlying element of danger in his tone that caused Hermione to think twice before answering.

She shook her head. "Not really." Then, as an afterthought, added, "Sir."

They sat in silence from there, with Hermione still aghast over her attitude towards a Professor, and Severus intrigued by the inner-workings of the girl's mind. He –along with the rest of the staff- had seen her stressed before, but the way she was reacting to the strain now was self-destructive; an issue which bothered the Head of Slytherin.

Hermione Granger was one of Hogwarts' most promising students and, though Severus was a keen supporter of the theory that no student should be coddled, lest they never learn to tackle obstacles for themselves, he felt that, in this instance, the pressure being placed on the girl was beyond reasonable.

He inwardly cursed the Headmaster again.

Severus continued to watch as Hermione wrung her hands and inwardly chastised herself for her behaviour. He generally enjoyed watching students squirm, but felt that, unfortunately, she'd made a point earlier, and that, perhaps, their situations were quite alike.

After another moment, he spoke, attempting to maintain a calm, vaguely sympathetic demeanour. "Miss Granger, I do hope that you're quite done wallowing."

She looked up at him and nodded. "Again, Professor Snape, I apologise…I think the charm's tampering a bit with my emotions, too. Not that it's any excuse."

He furrowed his brow. "Any other symptoms?"

"Er…the nausea and dizziness is a little bad…"

He inhaled deeply, clearly frustrated. "I recall informing you that you should see me for remedies."

"I know," she admitted, "but I felt that you, ah, preferred your space…"

An amused glint flickered in his eyes. "You were afraid."

"I was not." She bristled. "The symptoms were nowhere near bad enough to take up any of your time."

"Indeed."

Ignoring the amusement and disbelief in his tone –though they were an improvement on the malice- Hermione plowed on. "At any rate, shouldn't we start discussing more 'private matters'?"

_Ah, yes,_ he thought, _where were we…?_

"Very well, Miss Granger, where would you prefer we begin?"

She shrugged. "Well…you suggested the trivial information…I'll begin, shall I?"

He nodded, and she began her brief autobiography. She told him her birthday and her parents' names. She informed him that she was, at that stage, an only child, and suspected that she would remain as such. She then glossed over her favourite foods, beverages and colours, moving from there into a basic description of her hobbies.

"I love to read, Professor, as you know…I also play the piano…or, at least, attempt to…" She paused, "I also enjoy studying. I believe it was you who called me a 'Know-It-All', and I suppose it's true. I yearn for knowledge…I hate not understanding anything…" She shrugged. "And that's about it, really. I mean, I could get all girly and go on about my love of window shopping, and how I like the way we, in the Wizarding world, have the ability to zip between countries in order to do so…but, really, that's not me…" She felt her cheeks colour, "Well, not _much_, anyway."

Rolling his eyes, and muttering about typical women, Severus followed suit and gave her a brief –but not inaccurate- summary of his life. He, too, enjoyed reading, as she knew, and studying…He surprised her by disclosing his love of cooking. Though it wasn't dissimilar to his field (Potions making), he found the entire process relaxing and invigorating all at once. He enjoyed experimenting with ingredients and creating his own recipes. Again, if she were to breathe a word of this to any other soul…

"I know," She cut in, once again feeling comfortable in his presence. "Detention for eternity."

He eyed her seriously. "Detention with _Mr Filch_ for eternity."

The corners of her lips quirked. "Of course, Professor."

The silence that followed was comfortable, and the two took the opportunity to observe one another covertly. Hermione noticed that, when he wasn't on edge and in a huff, his face relaxed into a rather handsome (in her opinion, at any rate) visage. His eyes were mysterious…and his skin, which she once thought sallow, was pale and smooth, with the odd wrinkle or scar barely visible. His nose made him look aristocratic and his voice…well…to Hermione it sounded like liquid velvet.

As these thoughts plagued her mind, she felt her cheeks heat up. She _couldn't_ think of her Professor that way! She _shouldn't_! It was inappropriate, and she knew that, if she allowed herself to get any more attached, she would inevitably get hurt.

Severus watched the blush creep across the Gryffindor's cheeks, and frowned in concentration. What could she be thinking about? _Who_ could she be thinking about?

He cleared his throat. She jumped.

"A knut for your thoughts, Miss Granger?" He asked, reveling in the look of sheer horror etched upon her features.

"Oh, er…I was…er…" She swallowed. "I was thinking about how inappropriate my behaviour has been these last few days…"

_That made sense_, she decided, gauging the Professor's reaction, _and it wasn't exactly a lie…_

Snape nodded. "There will be more time for that during your detention tonight." He watched her face fall. "Surely, you didn't forget?"

Forcing a smile, she shook her head. "Of course not, sir."

"Good."

**-?-**

Hermione arrived at her detention that night early and feeling ill. Snape gave her nausea remedies and set her to work cleaning cauldrons. He ignored her for the most part of the evening, choosing, instead, to mark homework and consult his newest Potions text. When the clock signaled that there were a mere 5 minutes before curfew, he sent Hermione from his sight. This was a pattern that lasted for the first two detentions, before he noticed her failing health during the following Monday's 'chat'.

She appeared tired and withdrawn, and he felt rather guilty for it, before quickly shifting the blame back onto the Headmaster. He knew it was a cowardly option, but, even though he and the Granger girl were getting along well enough in their forced discussion periods, he refused to sacrifice his reputation simply because he felt sorry for the girl.

Still, he would have to consider a new option for their detentions…

That Friday night, when she arrived, Severus informed her that, instead of cleaning, she would be expected to assist him with the preparation of a particular potion. It was well beyond anything required of a NEWTS level Potions student, but he felt that she would be useful and would not jeopardise the potion.

Her eyes lit up, and she took him by surprise by throwing her arms around his waist. "Thankyou, Sir. Professor Matthews keeps giving me third year tasks and I…" She trailed off, noticing their position, and sprang backwards, blushing ferociously. "I'm so sorry!"

Stiff and uncomfortable, Snape brushed the apology away. "Forget about it, Granger."

Again, she found that her mouth was working before her brain could process her own words. "It's the stupid spell…I've been feeling really clingy, lately. Craving contact…Wanting someone to-" She covered her mouth with her hand. "I'll shut up."

"I believe that would be a wise decision."

Her face reddened furiously, and Severus remembered something else she'd said.

"You said Professor Matthews was giving you _third year_ potions work?"

Her blush disappeared as a scowl marred her features. "Yes." She hissed. "It's annoying, degrading and rather insulting. Not to mention the fact that NEWTS is this year, and I don't feel at all prepared…"

He, too, was glowering. "Have you spoken to the Headmaster?"

She snorted. "I was half expecting him to tell me that she'd make a great addition for our partnership." Dark humour laced the imitation that followed; "_Why. My dear girl, Professor Matthews would be the perfect Professor to introduce to Severus…A threesome is precisely what you need!_"

Though he wished to reprimand her, Severus was too busy controlling his amusement. He wouldn't laugh outright, but he had trouble controlling the smirk that had plastered itself to his face.

She flushed, and apologised, but found that she really wasn't all that sorry.

"Anyway," she continued, "Professor Dumbledore says that I should trust her."

Severus scowled. The old man had lost his mind! "Perhaps, Miss Granger, these detentions should become tutorials…I may not be allowed to teach you, officially, however, I refuse to watch another staff member ruin a promising student's chance for success."

She reeled back, flattered. "Thankyou, sir. For, er, for everything you just said." She smiled, "And, I promise, nobody will know that, deep down, you're a nice person."

He scowled at her, and she laughed.

**-?-**

Hermione returned to her quarters that night in the best mood she'd been in all term to date. Again, she knew she'd been flirting with the man…but at least this time she could attribute most of it to her hormones, thanks to the mock-pregnancy charm.

"Dungbomb."

She waltzed into the Heads' common room, humming to herself. Taking a seat on the couch, she summoned an elf and requested a hot chocolate accompanied by chocolate biscuits. The elf returned bearing what resembled a small chocolate-y feast. She thanked the elf and dunked the first biscuit into the beverage before ramming it into her mouth. She moaned as the biscuit dissolved on her tongue.

Chocolate, she decided, was a great substitute for sex.

Speaking of…strange noises could be heard from Goyle's room. She could only deduce that Harry had finally succumbed to the hormonal cravings caused by the spell and was spending the night with his partner. She knew that they wouldn't be doing anything overtly wicked, as all rooms were warded to prevent students from participating in the actual sex act. However, there were many things the students could do without breaking those wards and alerting the staff.

Upon thinking of such things, she felt a familiar feeling stirring in the pit of her stomach. It had been near constant for the last day or so. Oh, Gods, she needed release. Another bite of the chocolate could only relieve so much…

With a sigh, she forced herself to her feet and entered her bedroom. Placing a silencing charm over the room, she changed into her nightdress and hopped into bed. Closing her eyes, she allowed her fingers to wander, imagining they belonged to a certain Potions Master.

It wasn't long before she achieved her climax and went spiraling, contentedly, into sleep.

If only he knew…

**-?-**

Monday morning came by again rather quickly. Hermione rose late and summoned breakfast from an elf. She dressed lazily, noting the fluttering that had started in her belly. It was only faint, but it intrigued her nonetheless. She would tell the Professor of the newest development during their meeting that morning.

She bounded along the corridors, in a particularly good mood. Oh, how she looked forward to these meetings! Professor Snape always had something interesting to say, and she'd discovered that they had more in common than she'd ever imagined. They had little arguments every so often, but, all in all, their opinions were generally quite similar.

She knocked on his office door, and he allowed her in, moving towards the concealed entrance to his chambers, as had become their routine. She settled herself on the couch and accepted a cup of tea, ready to 'get to know' the Slytherin some more.

"How was your weekend?" She asked politely.

Their 'chats' always began awkwardly, but eased into comfortable conversation as they became reacquainted.

"It was enjoyable, surprisingly."

"Oh?" Her curiosity was piqued. "What did you do?"

"I attended a lecture in London regarding the use of Muggle medicinal herbs in Potions development."

Her eyes gleamed. "Oh, I would have loved to have been there…"

"I thought you might." He motioned to his pensieve. "Feel free to immerse yourself. Consider it part of your NEWTS tutorials."

She had the urge to hug him, but refrained. "Thankyou, sir!"

He nodded, and she moved towards the pensieve, waiting patiently for the go ahead. He nodded and she dove right in.

She watched Professor Snape take a seat and she followed suit, taking an empty seat near the aisle. She listened to the speaker, captivated by the intensity of the information. There were a few things said that she disagreed with, and made a mental note to discuss them with the Professor.

As the lecture came to an end, she prepared to leave the memory, but found that it continued. Perhaps Snape had moved to speak to the lecturer? She turned to see where he had gone, and regretted it instantly.

Before her stood the Professor, and beside him Professor Matthews. It wasn't the presence of the other Professor which unnerved her, but the position of her hands. One was entwined with his!

Feeling foolish and sick, she threw herself out of the memory.

Snape was waiting for her, anticipating an academic discussion. What he _wasn't_ expecting was a tearful, red-faced Head Girl.

"Miss Granger?" He asked.

His only response was a muffled sob as she ran from the room.

* * *

A/N- Is all as it seems or has Hermione misinterpreted the situation? Tune in next time for the answer to this question and more! 


	3. Light

A/N – Thank you for all of your kind reviews! I was flattered that so many of you are actually enjoying this piece. This chapter is somewhat OOC (as is the rest of the story, I suppose), however I _have_ tried to keep it believable under the circumstances. As per usual, any feedback and constructive criticism is deeply appreciated! Oh, and I hope that everyone has a very safe and enjoyable festive season!

* * *

Severus was baffled. The girl had fled his quarters and never looked back. Now, under normal circumstances -where he took pride in intimidating and, on the odd occasion, tormenting students- her behaviour wouldn't have surprised him. However, he had been far from intimidating. For the previous three weeks he'd even been vaguely friendly with the girl, so her behaviour struck him as fairly odd.

Had he said something cruel?

No.

Had he looked at her in a sadistic fashion?

No again.

She'd emerged from the memory tearful and flustered, which meant that something at the lecture must have upset her.

He frowned.

The content had been intense, yes, but he couldn't recall anything occurring that would elicit such a negative reaction...

With an exasperated sigh, he decided to delve back into the memory. He wanted answers.

**-?-**

Hermione ran all the way to the Heads' rooms, tears streaming down her face.

How could she have been so stupid? She'd fallen for her Professor! She'd developed a crush over the course of the previous year, but, over the last three weeks she had allowed it to get out of hand. She'd actually allowed herself to imagine that she'd have a chance with him!

She was so _stupid _!

"Dungbomb." She stammered, arriving at the portrait. It swung open and she tumbled through the entrance, landing, disgracefully, in a heap in front of the couch, where the Head Boy and The Boy Who Lived had been snogging happily. Naturally, they jumped apart at her arrival.

Taking one look at her tear-stained face, Harry leapt to his feet. "Hermione, are you alright?"

She shook her head. "I'm _such_ an _idiot_!"

Harry looked to Goyle for assistance.

The near behemoth moved forward and offered his fellow Head a hand. "You're not an idiot, Granger."

Her tears continued to flow, and her protest was muffled by sobs.

"I am!" She cried. "I _knew_ this would happen, and I _still _let myself get swept off my feet..."

Harry was confused. Goyle, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what was going on.

"Hermione," he began, his tone gentle, "You can't 'elp the way you feel."

She looked up at him. "I can. I should have."

"Does somebody want to tell me what's going on?"

Hermione sniffled pathetically and averted her gaze. "I've developed f...feelings for P...professor Sn...Snape." She hiccupped.

"Oh." The Boy Who Lived responded lamely. "Well. That's, er, not so bad..."

Taming her emotions (_Damn spell induced hormonal surges!_), the Head Girl shook her head. "Not that bad?" She echoed. "Of _course_ it is. He's a _teacher. _I'm a _student. _He's thirty-seven, and I'm eighteen." She felt the panic bubble up in her throat again. "And, what's more, he's _seeing _someone."

Harry pulled her into a hug, knowing that there wasn't much he could say that would help.

Hermione savoured the comfort, pulling away sheepishly once she'd calmed down. Wiping her eyes, she glanced between the boys and sighed. "Now, look," she said, forcing a watery, apologetic smile, "I've completely ruined your private time."

"Not an issue, Granger," Goyle handed her a mug of hot chocolate. "We've got all year."

She took a sip of the warm liquid, and sank back into the folds of the plush couch. "Still, I feel awful. Just because I'm doomed to spend the year alone and out-of-love, so to speak, doesn't mean I should interrupt _your_ time together." She peered at Harry, fondly. "I'm glad you're happy, you know. The both of you." She attempted to swallow the pang of jealousy that accompanied the statement.

Her fellow Gryffindor frowned. "'Mione…you're not going to spend the year _alone_. And as for the out-of-love thing…"

"Harry," she pleaded, "Come off it, would you? This subject they've forced on us is nothing more than a glorified matchmaking service. Most people have been placed with someone that they can easily see themselves spending the rest of their lives with, and the others are content to spend at least a few years dating their partners before moving on…" She wiped away an errant tear, determined not to let herself get worked up again. "I was just unlucky enough to be incompatible with everyone else…It's nobody's fault that I'm the complete opposite of every other seventh year; that's just how it is. I'm not deluded enough to think that someone will decide they don't like the perfect match that's been handed to them, and will, instead, prefer me…" She sighed. "I'm happy for everyone else, really I am. I just feel somewhat left out."

Harry didn't quite know how to respond, so he chose, instead, to reach over and give her hand a squeeze. "You're the strongest girl I know, 'Mione." He eventually informed her. "You'll make it through this year...And we'll be here for you whenever you need us." He nudged his -there was no other word for it- boyfriend. "Won't we?"

The Head Boy nodded. " 'Course we will."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and smiled tightly at the pair. "Then after this year?"

"You'll see the world!" Harry beamed, clearly excited for her. "You'll go on to be extremely successful, will find a tall, dark, handsome wizard who will find himself head over heels for you, and you'll both live happily ever after with a herd of little 'uns to keep you busy."

Laughing despite herself, Hermione crinkled her nose. "I could do without the herd of children…I'm not marrying a Weasley!"

"I don't know…" The Boy Who Lived grinned. "Charlie's quite attractive…"

That earned him a thwack from both parties. "Oi!" He glowered at his partner and nursed his arm, "What was that for?"

Goyle shook his head with a smirk. "You're mine, now, Potter. No other men for you."

Rolling his eyes with a long-suffering sigh, Harry pretended to pout. "Fine."

Hermione watched the display with a small, yet affectionate, smile. She was somewhat jealous, but also aware that Harry had made a valid point. She'd survive the year, and would most likely find happiness -or, at least, a fulfilling relationship or three- after she graduated. And, in the mean time, she had her friends.

_Well_, she thought, _I have Harry and Goyle...and, if I really want to push my luck, I suppose I've got Malfoy as well..._

Still, she missed Ron. They'd avoided each other ever since the incident in the Great Hall all those weeks ago. Apparently he and Hannah were getting along famously, and he'd made it more than clear that he didn't want anything more to do with his 'Slytherin loving' ex-friends.

With all the extra emphasis on homework, as well as the requirements of Sexual Education, Hermione'd had little time to think about the friendship she'd lost. But, on this particular morning, she found that she missed him terribly. She missed his lame jokes and his playful nature. Certainly, they'd been drifting apart since their fifth year…but to have absolutely no contact with the boy was taking its toll on her.

Perhaps she should attempt to bury the hatchet?

Of course, that might only spark more arguments…

She sighed, and the fluttering in her belly made itself known again, reminding her of another relationship -of sorts- that she had to mend.

She drained the last of the chocolate beverage from her mug, then rose.

"Where're you off to, then?"

She spun to face her best friend and his boyfriend. "I'm going to go get on with the rest of the year." She replied, hoping she sounded confident. "First stop: Professor Snape."

**-?-**

Severus emerged from the memory, more confused than when he'd entered it. He'd paid careful attention to everything said, and yet, he could not pinpoint anything that might have upset the Granger girl.

A timid knock sounded at his office door, and he made his way from his quarters, making certain the entrance was concealed before he allowed his 'guest' to enter.

Opening the door, he came face to face with the very object of his morning's musings. "Miss Granger," he began, his tone deceptively calm, "You've deemed yourself fit to return, I see."

She flushed, however maintained eye contact. "I apologise for earlier, Professor. I…" she hesitated, "…suffered an unexpected side-effect from the spell."

He arched an eyebrow. "Indeed?"

"Yes, sir. I should have explained myself…but I'm afraid I wasn't exactly in a stable state of mind."

He observed her for a moment, before moving aside to allow her entrance. She took a seat in front of his desk, and, out of habit, continued talking. "I rather enjoyed the lecture, though." As she remembered the content, her eyes glimmered. "It was riveting. I must say, though, I disagreed with his assumption that the Aloe-Vera plant could assist the dilution of Phoenix tears…"

"Is that so?" He asked, "Explain your reasoning."

She smiled shyly, for only a moment, before launching into her spiel.

Their discussion progressed easily from there, and Severus soon forgot about his plan to question the girl about her earlier behaviour.

It wasn't until she thanked him again for his patience and understanding -on the way out the door- that he remembered.

"Actually, Miss Granger, a word…" He gestured towards the seat she had recently vacated.

She checked her watch, "I'm sorry, sir…I have class-"

"I've already contacted Minerva and informed her that you may be late."

She sighed in resignation and sat back down.

He leant forward in his own seat, appearing almost casual. "About your behaviour earlier-"

"I thought I'd explained that."

"Not well enough."

She blanched.

"Miss Granger…" he began, tentatively. "I am quite aware of the hormonal imbalances and so forth that you are no doubt experiencing. However, I also understand that such displays as the one this morning are _triggered._" He leant backwards, "I would find it to be in both of our interests if you were to inform me of what triggered this morning's outburst, so that it may be avoided for the remainder of the spell."

"Oh, Professor…I can't…You wouldn't understand."

"Miss Granger," his patience was wearing thin, "I am not an ogre. I, too, suffer from emotions from time to time."

"I'm not insinuating that you don't, sir…I just don't want to bother you with my trivial problems."

"You've already done so, on more than one occasion." He responded, calmly. "This morning was simply the tip of the iceberg, as they say."

"Sir, really, I don't feel comfortable-"

He fought the urge to snap at her. If his plan to piss Albus Dumbledore off was to succeed, he would need to befriend the Granger girl, and snapping at her would not assist him in that. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, he prepared himself for the hardest part yet; "Hermione," the use of her given name clearly startled her, and he smirked. "The purpose of the past three weeks has been to instil some degree of trust in one another. I'd have hoped that, by now, you might be able to trust me as you do any other Professor."

She looked as though she were about to cry. "Sir…I _do_ trust you. I have done so for years. And I trust you even more so this year because of the past few weeks. However…it's hard for me to disclose to _anyone_ what's been bothering me…"

"And why is that?"

"Because, it's irrational…and inappropriate…and…urgh!" She threw her hands into the air. "I'd prefer to pretend that I'm a _normal_ seventh year, and that what's bothering me really isn't bothering me, because I'm normal."

That barely made any sense. Each of them knew it.

"Hermione," Severus tried again, bringing out his strongest weapon. "You are no longer my student. Albus has seen to that. I know it may seem odd, but, for the remainder of the year we are to be 'friends'." He forced himself not to snarl the awkward word. "You may speak to me about anything. I will not take house-points. I will not be cruel. I will not mock you…"

_Oh, yes you will_. She thought, staring back at him. _Or you'll banish me from your sight for eternity._ She wasn't entirely sure which was worse…

"Professor Snape-"

"Severus."

"What?" She blinked.

"In private you may call me by my given name." Another exercise in trust; this time from he to her. He knew it was essential in order to bridge the gap between them.

"I couldn't-"

_Merlin, **this** was a **Gryffindor?**_ _Weren't they supposed to show a little bravado? _Snape sighed. "It's not that difficult to pronounce, Girl."

"Professor-" One glance at the look on his face, and she complied. "Severus…I'm sorry…This is…awkward. I should go."

"No."

Her embarrassment dissolved into self-righteous anger. "You said it yourself; we're no longer teacher and student. You can't hold me here."

He smirked. "I could do anything I wished, actually."

Her eyes widened. She was reading _far_ too much into that statement! "Fine." She flopped back into her seat. "You win."

"This was never a game, Hermione."

"Well then what is it? You've spent three weeks treating me as an equal, when for years I was a 'foolish child' and an 'annoying know-it-all'. Suddenly you're nice, and friendly, and caring and I just don't…" She trailed off, understanding dawning on her features. "This is to upset Professor Dumbledore, isn't it?"

"Not entirely."

She eyed him sceptically. "Of course it is. He's waiting for you to put a foot out of line so he can sack you and get that stupid woman in to take over all Potions classes." Her countenance darkened as she thought of Professor Matthews. Jealousy or no, it was a fact that that woman was an idiot. "So you're trying to establish an unlikely friendship with me, just to prove to him that he can't get rid of you that easily." It all made sense, now. She could see the light at the end of the tunnel. "So, I've been a pawn this entire time. First for him, and now for you."

Severus shook his head. "You're rather close, but not exactly correct."

She folded her hands over her chest defiantly. "Then correct me, _Professor_."

"The Headmaster did pull you into his game as a means to get me to either quit or do something stupid, yes. However," he held up his hand to silence her, "I am, and always have been, against using others as a means to an end. Having been in that position on far too many occasions myself, I prefer to do my own dirty work. I am furious with the Headmaster for pulling you into this, and I am not planning on 'using' you. However, I feel that a genuine friendship between us is possible. This was where the Headmaster's scheme was flawed; had he placed me with a brainless oaf for this task, I would have snapped by now. But he placed me with you; someone with whom I've discovered a lot of similarities."

"Are you trying to tell me that you genuinely want a friendship? With me?" She wasn't buying it.

He laughed lightly. "Originally, no. I wanted nothing to do with you. However, the course of the past few weeks has caused me to rethink my initial reaction. We do have a lot in common; we even share the same dark sense of humour. I believe that two very positive outcomes can come from the 'Sexual Education' debacle. One; we can work on building a friendship. Two; said positive outcome will drive Albus insane."

"You're serious?" Hermione didn't exactly know how to react. She was still reeling from the pensieve incident. Not to mention the fact that it was rather difficult -for her especially- to consider the man as anything other than her Professor; attraction to him or no.

He nodded. "Of course it will not be as simple as a first years' pact to 'be friends', but I believe it will be achievable."

"Right…" She said, "Well, then, as of Wednesday, I suggest we, ah, get reacquainted..."

She pushed herself to her feet. Just as she turned, Professor Matthews burst through the office door.

"Severus, _here_ you are! I've been looking _all over_ for you!" She gushed, ignoring Hermione's presence. "I simply must apologise for Saturday! It was most crass of me to have…Oh! Miss Granger! What are _you_ doing here?"

Severus watched as the girl straightened herself to full height. "Professor Snape and I had some unfinished business to discuss." Her tone was crisp and curt. Clearly, she didn't think too much of the older witch.

Severus smothered a snort; he didn't think too much of Siobhan Matthews either.

However, he'd never seen the Head Girl act disrespectfully to any staff member…even if she despised them. (The Umbridge woman being the only exception, and he wasn't certain she counted.)

He wondered why she would suddenly give another Professor attitude now. Perhaps it was yet another side-effect of the abundance of hormones that the spell had induced.

Siobhan's eyes lit up as she replied in an overtly sweet voice; "Ah, yes, you're partners in your little _baby_ assignment, aren't you?" She clucked, "It's so adorable…"

It was an intentional barb against the girl, Severus knew that. As did Hermione, judging by the fire in her eyes. However, her tone was as sickeningly sweet as the Professor's when she responded.

"Oh, _yes_. And it's rather a bonus to be considered compatible with Professor Snape. Not many people are as lucky as I."

Severus wondered exactly where that barb had come from. _He_ knew that Siobhan was interested in him; how did _she_? And, furthermore, why would it bother _her_?

But, before he could request that she remain for further discussion, the Head Girl had bid them both good day and had practically stormed out of the room, leaving him alone with his fellow Professor.

"Oh, she's a funny little one, isn't she, Severus?"

He arched an eyebrow. "I find her to be more mature and far better company than the average 'adult' witch, actually."

He was hoping that she would take the hint.

It had been like this ever since their days at Hogwarts together. She was in his year, though had been in Hufflepuff, and had been trying to bed him since she had first laid eyes on him.

Twenty-odd years down the track, and she still hadn't let up.

"Oh, Severus," She laughed lightly, and sat on his desk, folding her legs in what he assumed was supposed to be a 'seductive' manner. "We're not _all_ that bad…"

At that moment, he begged to differ.

"Was there something you wanted?" He asked, tersely.

She leant forward and began to toy with his top button. "What have I ever wanted, Severus?"

Placing his hand over hers, he wrenched it away. "I am not now, nor have I ever been, interested. I thought I made that perfectly clear on Saturday."

"I thought you were just playing-"

"I do not _play_, Siobhan. Now, kindly remove yourself from my person _and_ my desk."

She scowled. "What have I got to do to tame you?"

"Imperio." He met her eyes. She could see he wasn't joking.

"For Merlin's sake, Severus! I don't want a relationship; just a quick fuck against the dungeon wall would suffice."

He rolled his eyes and calmly asked why it _had_ to be him. There were many, _many_ randy wizards gracing the pubs in Diagon Alley and in Hogsmeade; why was she so determined to bed _him_?

It was, apparently, because he was the most talented…or so the rumours went.

"You're a teacher," he reminded her. "You, of all people, should realise that not all rumours are true."

She batted her lashes coquettishly. "Ah, but I have it on good authority…"

He'd heard enough. "Professor Matthews, your behaviour is disgraceful. We are surrounded by hundreds of impressionable teenagers and it is up to us to set an example as to how they should behave. At this moment you are behaving no better than a fifth year in heat. I am not interested in pursuing _any_ sort of relationship with you." He held the door open for her, signalling the end of their discussion. "Good day, Professor."

As she stormed out, he dropped back into his chair and massaged his temple.

_Women!_

**-?-**

_Hermione stood by the window of her Head Girl's room, peering out over the lake. She was confused and felt rather lonely. The giant squid played about on its own, and Hermione longed to be like it; self-sufficient. _

_Suddenly she was alerted to another person's presence in the room. She knew, instinctively, that it was the Professor._

"_You came." She said, without turning from the window._

"_I did." He replied, moving to her side._

_They stood in companionable silence for some time, before turning to face one another with the synchronised grace that can only be found in dreams and passé romance novels. _

_Suddenly they were kissing, tongues duelling in a battle that would never be won by either party. Hermione ran her fingers through Severus' hair while his hands traversed her body._

_It wasn't long before he lifted her and moved to the bed. She could feel her arousal dampening her underwear. She could **see** his straining against his trousers._

_They continued to kiss fervently, disrobing one another in a haphazard, fevered frenzy, refusing to part lips for more than a second._

_Soon they were naked, and Hermione was pleading for Severus to take her._

In reality, Hermione woke from her dream, her heart pounding and a coil of tension in her belly. She groaned in frustration, and clenched her eyes shut, praying for sleep to claim her.

It would be hours before she would drift into an uneasy slumber.

**-?-**

Hermione spent the next few days in a bit of a haze.

_Friends_.

Professor Snape, the cruel, supposedly sadistic lord of the dungeons, had proposed that they _befriend_ one another. He was being _nice_ about it. It was rather unsettling.

Then there were her feelings for him. She was still attracted to him; an issue made worse by the spell she was under. The faux-pregnancy charm had addled her brain, it seemed. She craved him, and not always sexually. Though her dreams were getting far move vivid… When alone, she craved his scent, his voice, his intellect…Whenever she passed him in the halls, she felt giddy. It wasn't right.

It wasn't _fair_.

She watched the other students talking avidly about baby names and so forth, and she felt as though the Professor should be discussing similar things with her. Then she'd catch herself thinking along such lines and would feel foolish; the 'baby' wasn't real. Nothing about the stupid scenario was. Certainly, many couples had evolved into such, but it wasn't so in her case.

And it never would be. After all, the Professor was seeing Professor Matthews.

And that was something else which niggled away at Hermione's nerves. She knew it was irrational for her to appear jealous. After all, she was Snape's student…Or, rather, she had been. And he was a fair bit older than her. And he could date whomever he wished.

Musing over these things at dinner that Friday, Hermione pushed the food on her plate around with her fork.

Would she have felt any different about the situation if Snape were seeing an anonymous witch and not the near-imbecilic junior Potions Professor? She supposed it would have hurt less, had she spied him with someone that might possess an intellect…But she knew, deep down, that she'd still be jealous.

And, really, she shouldn't be.

Her thoughts continued in the same cycle, until the man in question stood behind her and requested that she 'stop her foolish daydreaming and report to detention'.

It was earlier than their scheduled detentions generally were, however she complied without complaint.

Arriving in his quarters, she waited patiently for him to start the discussion.

"You skipped Wednesday's meeting." He stated.

She averted her gaze and shrugged. "I wasn't feeling up to it."

"And this afternoon's?"

She met his gaze, knowing that the same excuse wouldn't be accepted. "I thought we'd catch up tonight."

"Hermione…" he began, a note of warning in his voice.

She sighed. He was doing that rather often, now. Using her given name, rather than surname. It unnerved her. It was still 'Granger' in public, but whenever he caught her in private, he'd always call her by name. "I'm sorry, sir…_Severus_. I'm uncomfortable with all of this."

He poured himself a shot of firewiskey, and brought a cup of tea forward for her. "Do you wish for me to return to my 'normal' state?"

She considered it for a moment. Would she like him to be cruel and snarky? Not really.

She shook her head.

"Good."

"I suppose."

Severus wasn't pleased with the change in the girl's demeanour. He'd spent most days observing her from the sidelines. She was becoming more withdrawn, pulling away from even the Potter brat. And he, Severus, would have no more of her self-pitying, particularly in his presence.

"Miss Granger," he began, hoping that the familiar title would catch her attention, "I will not tolerate your moping any longer."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You are no longer yourself." He said, matter-of-factly. "Whether it is because you feel more an outsider amongst your peers than ever before, or because you miss Mr. Weasley's friendship, I will not allow you to wallow in your sorrows a moment longer."

She scowled. "I am not _wallowing_ in anything!"

Seeing that his probing, however inappropriate, was earning a fiery reaction, he continued. "Merlin's balls you aren't!" Her eyes widened at the faint profanity, and he relished the shock. "You've become as weak as a Hufflepuff."

"With all due respect-"

"So, tell me, Hermione, what is it that has brought you down, so?"

"Why must you push this?" The plea in her voice caused him to hesitate.

"Why must you fight me?"

They stared at each other in silence, and Hermione eventually gave in.

"I'm not happy with how this year has started," she admitted. "Firstly I'm ostracised from my peers because nobody in my class is compatible…then Ron hates me, because I've been paired with the king of the Slytherins himself…I get booted out of my Potions class and, as a substitute, am provided with an inept imbecile...meanwhile, I have to watch as everyone but me falls madly in like -not love, _yet_, at any rate- with their partners, and once again I'm left out of that…" she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Sort of."

He blinked, taken completely by surprise. "What?"

Her face flushed crimson upon realisation of her admission. "Nothing. Look, I'm just stressed. Add to that the emotional rollercoaster that this faux-pregnancy thing has got me on…" She shrugged. "I want to be normal, like everyone else. They're all enjoying playing happy families…I think that's supposed to be the point of this entire bloody exercise, actually…And, no offence, sir, but I'm not loving any of this."

He had the urge, for the briefest of moments, to embrace and comfort her. Naturally, he pushed it aside. "And here was I, beginning to believe that you were enjoying our tutorials, at least."

She gave him a watery smile. "I am. Really, I am. But then you go and change the dynamics of everything…and I'm not sure what to think."

"It can't be so hard to imagine us as friends, can it?" He asked.

She blushed. She'd been imagining him -vividly- as so much more. "No…It's just…this stupid baby thing has muddled with my ability to think rationally." Well, it wasn't exactly a lie.

"Indeed…"

"And, even though the symptoms are quite weakened, it's still a far cry from my normal state. Which has me on edge."

He'd been right, she decided, as she spoke without inhibition. Talking about everything helped. Suddenly, she felt as though the world was being lifted from her shoulders. The problem that followed, though, was her inability to _stop_ talking.

"…And even though I know how I feel is wrong, I can't help being attracted to you…I mean, I had this stupid crush last year, but this whole situation has made it worse and…" Suddenly her mind caught up to her mouth. "Oh, Gods! Ignore that. _Please_."

He was looking at her incredulously. _She_ was attracted to _him_. He found it difficult to believe, but, at the look of sheer mortification on her face, he knew it to be true.

Well, that explained her behaviour of late. And it also explained the way she had reacted to Siobhan that Monday.

He almost laughed out loud.

Almost.

"I'm flattered, Hermione…" He replied, finding himself in a very precarious position.

Her gaze was directed at her feet, and her cheeks were ablaze. "I know it's not appropriate for you to say any more than that, sir. Especially as you are seeing Professor Matthews."

"I'm doing no such thing!" He protested, the very thought turning his stomach.

Her eyes darted to his, to make certain that he was telling the truth.

He felt compelled to explain further. "She's made advances, yes, but I have never reciprocated the attention, I assure you."

Hermione frowned, "But, at the lecture, you were holding her hand-"

Snorting, he shook his head. "She'd demanded that I '_assist_' her through the crowd…" He trailed off. _Why_ did he feel compelled to justify his actions to a student?

"I'm sorry, sir…I just assumed…" She trailed off. "Not that it's any of my business…"

"No," he bristled, "It's not."

The silence that followed was awkward, to say the least.

After a few moments, Hermione rose to leave. "Professor, I apologise for making you uncomfortable. Thank you for listening to me. You've made me feel much better, but I fear it was at the expense of any possibility of us forming a friendship, as you'd have liked."

He nodded at her and watched her leave. As she approached the door, he called after her. "Miss Granger?"

She turned around, an eyebrow arched. "Yes, sir?"

"I really am quite flattered."

She blushed. "Thank you, sir."

He stared at the door for what felt like hours after she'd gone, his brain attempting to process the information.

She found him attractive. _Him_. The greasy haired, hook-nosed bat of the dungeons. It was unfathomable. And yet, he mused, it was true.

And he _was_ genuinely flattered. After all, it certainly wasn't everyday that good-looking young women informed him that he was the object of their desires. He felt somewhat younger and rather virile, simply from the knowledge that...

His mind came crashing to a halt.

He'd thought her to be 'good-looking'. On some subconscious level, he had looked at her as something other than a student...He'd looked at her as a woman...And he'd come to the conclusion that she was physically attractive.

When had this happened? Had he been conscious of his lecherous observations at the time, he'd have resigned on the spot!

It just wasn't right to be looking at students in that fashion!

_Ah_, he thought to himself, _But you have said so yourself; you are no longer her teacher..._

He shook the thoughts from his head forcefully. He was _still_ a Professor and she a student. Whether he taught her or not was not relevant.

An image of the girl sprang unbidden to his mind. He pictured her legs, the skin smooth and creamy. He envisioned her hips... those perfect child-bearing hips that swayed as she walked. The swell of her breasts, evident under the clingy school jumper...

Albus, damn him, had been correct when he'd said that Hermione was his usual type. She was not skin and bone, and she had a classical sort of beauty; one that did not require thick layers of make-up to catch attention. Her hair was still an untameable mess, but his was nothing to be desired, either...

Again the traitorous musings were banished to the dark recesses of his mind. They were not appropriate and, though he was now aware that they had existed since that very first encounter in the Headmaster's office, he refused to acknowledge them any longer.

Hermione -_Damn it!- _Miss Granger was his student and it was probably best for the both of them if he acknowledged her wishes and continued to treat her as such, rather than attempting the 'friendship' business again. It would keep them both out of trouble, at any rate.

Of course, that meant he would have to find another way to trounce his employer.

**-?-**

_Well,_ Hermione thought later that evening, tucked up in her bed, _his reaction could have been far worse_.

He could have yelled. He could have ranted. He could have told her that he was repulsed by the notion…but, instead, he had complimented her, and had allowed her to leave with dignity.

Of course, this only made her feel more sentimental towards him.

_Blast it all!_

The 'baby' kicked, almost as testament to her frustration.

She sighed. At least he wasn't seeing that blasted woman. She wasn't certain whether she was relieved, though, as that meant that he was either seeing someone else, or was a rather eligible bachelor. Now, she could probably accept the fact that someone else had snapped him up, but if he were single…well…that would only bolster her fantasies more.

And _that _simply wouldn't do. She had humiliated and degraded herself enough already.

They were back to teacher-student titles as well, which, she supposed, was a good thing.

_Or was it? _

She savoured the familiarity of 'Miss Granger', but now felt a deep sense of loss that she could only attribute to 'what if' scenarios.

_What if Professor Snape and I **had **become friends? _

_What if it could have developed into more? _

_What if..._

There were hundreds of questions such as those, and an even larger number of possible outcomes in return.

Did she regret fighting his attempts to become something more than teacher and student? _Should _she regret it? Would it be _wrong _if she did?

With a sigh, Hermione rolled over, hoping to leave her problems on the other side of the bed. Sadly, she knew, life was not that simple.

**-?-**

On the other side of the castle, Severus Snape awoke from a steamy -yet thoroughly disturbing- dream and switched his bedside lamp on.

He knew that any attempts to return to sleep would be futile.

He glared into the light, willing it to burn the image of his dream from his mind, all the while damning a certain Gryffindor know-it-all to hell.

* * *

A/N- Okay, I hope you enjoyed this one...let me know what you thought...


	4. Pop ular

**A/N-** Again, thank you for all of your fantastic feedback. I hope everyone enjoyed their non-denominational festive season! LOL. Seriously, though, I hope everyone is still safe and well. And, as a reward for your patience, I give to you chapter 4!

* * *

The following Friday began like any other Friday. Students forced themselves out of their beds, thankful that the weekend was on the horizon again. Breakfast was eaten and classes attended. Lunch was next, followed by a single class, then, for the seventh years, the spare allotted to Sexual Education.

This particular week had been rather hard on Hermione and, indeed, Snape, as any time shared between them had been awkward and forced. Neither knew quite how to deal with the other. Hermione was, for her part, still rather embarrassed, whilst Severus had been plagued by erotic dreams featuring the Head Girl, which had been triggered, quite obviously, by her admission.

So it was, then, that neither of them looked forward to Friday evening, as it would be awkward and unpleasant for both.

Hermione took a fortifying breath before knocking on the now all-too-familiar door. She was feeling tired and run down, and wasn't quite up to tip-toeing around her -for all intents and purposes- former Potions Professor.

When the standard ''Enter." was called, she opened the door and strode on into the office, flashing Snape a confident -but warm- smile.

"Good afternoon, sir."

Taken a little by surprise, Severus nodded. "Miss Granger."

She sat in her usual seat in front of his desk and sighed. "Professor..." She began, a little uncertainly, "Forgive me for being forward, but, I was hoping that we might, ah, talk about...Well... About my outburst last week."

"I'd prefer we didn't."

In true Gryffindor form, Hermione refused to be put off. "I know your hands are tied with the sort of things you're able to say...but I just want to make everything easier again."

Rolling his eyes, Severus responded, "And how do you propose to do so? I believe everything that _can _be said _has _been said."

She swallowed. "Sir...I believe that we were much closer to being friends than I originally thought...and I miss being able to talk to you..."

He averted his gaze, "It's been made quite clear that a friendship between us was inappropriate, if not impossible."

"Severus..." Her voice cracked, "I'm sorry. I was wrong. Over the past month or so, I've come to rely on my time with you...on our chats...on your opinions...You have gradually become my best friend, someone I can talk to about things that _aren't_ Quidditch related, someone with whom I value any time spent with, and it has taken a week of practically ignoring each other to make me see it."

"Miss Granger-"

"And I can't take back what I've said, nor can I make you forget it, but I won't stand idly by and watch as another of my friendships falls to pieces."

Severus observed her in silence for a moment. "Are you quite done?" She nodded. He sighed. "The past week has been trying for me, as well. However, I must stress that, though I value your company, I do not want to -how do they put it these days?- 'lead you on'..."

Blushing, she shook her head. "I can assure you that isn't possible. Aside from the obvious issues that stand in the way, I realise that I am most certainly not your 'type' and that my fantasies are just that and nothing more." She paused, allowing him to process that which she'd just said. Leaning forward imploringly, Hermione practically begged him to reconsider. "Severus, though our situations this year have not been fair, you must know that l consider myself lucky to have had a friend like you, and I am extremely sorry for ruining it all."

The Head of Slytherin considered his options. He could snarl and toss the girl from his office, which would undoubtedly be reason enough for the Headmaster to give him the sack, or he could accept her apology and reconstruct their rather odd friendship, which would have the added bonus of irritating Albus to no end.

He sighed resignedly; there really was no choice.

**-?-**

On the other side of the castle, Harry Potter grimaced in pain. It appeared that he would be the first to 'birth' a child.

**-?-**

When Hermione and Severus surfaced from their discussion in his office, they both knew instinctively that something was amiss. The halls, usually crawling with students dawdling to dinner, were empty. Even the portraits had vacated their frames.

The strange pair looked at each other wearily.

"What do you think? Remaining Death Eaters tried to avenge their Lord?"

Severus shook his head. "Doubtful. I'd have been alerted...no, punished, actually. By both parties." He was wanted by the Death Eaters for treachery and Albus would be angry if he had 'forgotten' to mention an impending attack. "Whatever has happened is entirely internal." He deduced. "And, as my presence was not called upon, I highly doubt it's serious."

"That's true," the Head Girl concurred. "However, I _do_ dislike being kept out of the loop."

Severus nodded; he, too, liked to know exactly what was happening. Surprises were not his forte.

The two continued on their way to the Hall in amicable silence, each secretly glad that they had sorted things out. When they reached their destination, a roar of conversation assaulted their ears.

"Ah, Severus, Hermione, I was beginning to wonder at your absence." Albus was grinning as he approached them.

"We were discussing potions in Professor Snape's office." Hermione replied nonchalantly. "We've discovered that our opinions on the subject are quite similar." Scanning the packed Hall, her manner swiftly morphed into one of sheer professionalism. "What's happened? Were we not notified for any particular reason, or were we simply forgotten?"

The twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes -which had faded, somewhat, with the knowledge that Snape and Hermione were, unfortunately, getting along- grew vibrant once more. "Ah," he said, "Our seventh year Sexual Education class has reached the next phase for one particular couple, and everyone is feeling the excitement."

"Oh, wow, this is rather early..." the Head Girl mused. "Which couple, sir?"

"Actually, the timing is not unusual for male pregnancies. Mr Potter seemed rather pleased that the 'toll' on his body had come to an end."

"Harry and Greg have their 'baby' already?" Her gaze darted across the room, trying to pinpoint the couple.

"Yes, yes." Albus nodded vigorously, "I believe they've taken up residence in the Head rooms, for the moment, so that they might develop their roster in peace."

Hermione nodded. Though the assessment was conducted in pairs, the couples remained in their dorms during the night, which meant that the 'children' would spend some nights with one 'parent' and the remainder with the other. This arrangement had the added bonus of giving the students a taste of sole parenting; a growing movement in both Wizarding and Muggle societies.

As Harry and Goyle were both involved in extra-curricular activities, and were both in the public eye (in the school, at any rate), it would be much easier for them to discuss an adequate 'custody' roster in private, without the prying eyes and ears of their peers.

The Head Girl politely excused herself from Dumbledore's presence, informed Severus that she would not be late for her detention-come-tutorial, then rushed off to the Heads' chambers.

The scene that greeted her was far from anything she'd been expecting. A shrill wailing assaulted her ear-drums as she entered, and she watched as Harry paced the room, a bundle of blankets in his arms, throwing spiteful comments at his partner. Goyle sat on the couch, hurling insults of his own.

She was so engrossed in the argument that she didn't even notice Draco Malfoy's emergence from the Head Boy's rooms until he stood by her side.

"Finally heard the news, then, eh?"

She jumped, startled by his presence. "Yes..." She nodded, and then tilted her head towards the bickering pair. "Have they been at it for very long?"

The blonde shrugged. "Half an hour or so. Started over Quidditch practice."

She rolled her eyes; some things would never change.

"Ahem." She began, walking over to the pair. "Would someone like to tell me just _what _is going on here?"

The two looked back at her sheepishly. Neither could really explain the reason for their argument, each knowing just how childish they were being. They shook their heads while the 'infant' cried on.

"Then I suggest you apologise to one another."

Chastised, the two complied, though silently decided to 'make up' properly later on, in private.

"Good." Hermione beamed, her attention now focused on the bundle in her best friend's arms. "Now, let's meet your assignment."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's no good to think of them that way, 'Mione." He said, pulling back part of the blanket. "Because they are as emotionally receptive as real babies..."

He trailed off with a smirk as she gasped.

Whatever Hermione had been expecting, _this _wasn't it! She blinked. In Harry's arms sobbed what looked like a real live baby. Even with the aide of magic, the most Hermione had expected was a well-animated, vaguely realistic doll.

The infant in her best friend's grasp was certainly more advanced than that!

She inspected it more closely.

"Amazing..." she breathed.

"I reckon!" the Boy Who Lived grinned. "McGonagall and Flitwick invented the spell. This is, essentially, a real baby. He needs to eat, breathe, sleep and shit...He can get sick and hurt...He'll even grow at the same rate." Harry shrugged. "He'll just turn back into a rag doll when the class is over, unless we accidentally kill him first..."

"He even looks like you!"

Goyle chuckled. "They took a bit of our hair and used it in the spell...bloody ingenious. 'Course, the kid looks more like Potter than me. But that's the luck of the draw. Our real kids -if we were ever to 'ave any- might look completely different. There's no way to tell."

Hermione sat down across from him and Draco beside her.

"Adds a whole new element, doesn't it?" He said, staring at the sniffling newborn.

She swallowed, suddenly feeling giddy. After all, she would soon have to face her own child, she would be staring into a possible outcome of coupling with her former professor and current crush, and she wasn't certain she could handle it.

"Yes," she eventually replied, "It certainly does."

**-?-**

Severus glanced up from his desk as a shell-shocked Gryffindor entered his office.

"Don't tell me," he drawled, "Potter gave birth to an alien."

When that failed to elicit a smile from the girl, he frowned. "Hermione?"

She shook herself from her thoughts. "Sorry...I was thinking."

"Indeed. About anything in particular or simply because you're an irritating know-it-all?"

She rewarded him with a faint smile. "A little from Column A and a little from Column B."

"Ah." He rose from his seat and gestured for her to join him in his chambers. Tea was summoned, and they sat across from one another in front of the unlit fireplace. "Now," he said, having taken a sip of tea, "Continue. What is on your mind?"

She sighed and toyed with the frayed corner of a cushion. "These babies are practically real."

"Go on."

"It's just that... It makes this entire ordeal that much harder, you know? Especially for me. I'm going to be spending all of my time with a very real baby that looks like _us_. Not just like me, and not like some animated rag-doll...It will look like _us._"

Severus sighed. "I see...You fear it may -if nothing else- make you pine for a relationship with me even more."

Blushing, she nodded. "Which is stupid-"

"No," he interrupted gently, "It's human nature. We all have urges, needs and wants, not all of which are entirely appropriate or able to be fulfilled." He considered his recent erotic dreams, and smothered a sigh. How good it would feel to touch her soft, supple skin... He cleared his throat and pushed the thoughts aside. "To have it flaunted in front of you day in and day out is anything but fair, and you cannot help your reactions..."

"I know...but it's not exactly fair for me to then empty it all out on you, either. It's bad for our friendship and it makes things between us rather awkward..." She exhaled and shrugged, offering him a warm smile and a tentative squeeze of his hand. But thank you for letting me get it off my chest."

An odd feeling of loss swept over him as she removed her hand from his, and he brushed it aside, refusing to acknowledge what it might mean. He offered her the ghost of a smile. "You're welcome."

**-?-**

Saturday saw the 'birth' of more children, namely to male carriers, while Sunday was mostly uneventful. Monday morning welcomed even more infants, and, by Monday night, every seventh year was -for all intents and purposes- officially a 'parent'. Except, of course, Hermione.

When she arrived in the Great Hall on Tuesday morning, all eyes were on her. She ignored the questioning stares and sat down at her now relatively normal position at the Slytherin table across from Harry.

"So..." he started, "You didn't need to get up in the middle of the night at all? Not even to...I don't know...wake Pomfrey and sort of pop out a baby?"

She frowned. "No. But I'm sure I'm not the only one."

"You are, actually." Malfoy informed her. "Everyone else has had 'em and are currently enjoying the fact that we don't have to drag them around classes."

As it _was _their NEWT year, 'babysitting' was provided in the hospital wing, so that content could be delivered with minimal interruptions.

"Oh..." She responded, touching her stomach tenderly. "I hope nothing's wrong." A 'kick' to her hand quickly stifled her worry.

"Of _course_ there's something wrong," a familiar voice sneered. "It's going to be part Snape, innit?"

Hermione scowled at her former friend, while Draco -of all people- leapt to her (or rather Severus') defence.

"Better than part Weasley, though. Eh, Granger?"

"No," she replied, surprising everyone. "But certainly better than _that _one."

Harry looked away while Draco chortled. Ron turned red and stormed off.

Pushing herself from her seat, Hermione declared she wasn't hungry. She exited the Hall with the promise that she was fine and that she'd see them in their respective classes.

"Oi, Granger, wait up a bit."

"Draco, really, I'm _fine_..."

Smirking, he fell into step beside her. "So I can't walk with you?"

"Of _course _you can walk with me, you twit."

"Good. Then I'll continue to do so."

She sighed in exasperation. "Fine."

A moment of silence passed, then; "You shouldn't let his shit get to you."

"What makes you think it gets to me?"

He laughed. "You're a bleeding _Gryffindor._ Loyal, brave, and able to be read like a book. It's pretty obvious that he's getting to you...But the wanker doesn't deserve the acknowledgement."

"Thank you," she replied. "Now, what do you want? And don't give me all that rot about wanting to be friends...You're a Slytherin through and through, and you don't pay compliments unless you get something in return."

"Very good, Granger..." he grinned. "It's hard to pull the wool over _your_ eyes."

"There you go again!"

"And what pretty eyes you have..."

"All the better to see you -and thus hex you properly- with."

She found herself backed up against a wall, and fumbled for her wand as he advanced.

Smirking, he held up his hands in surrender. "Easy there, Granger."

"What are you doing, Draco?" She demanded.

"I'm starting to see what Snape sees in you…" He looked her up and down, hungrily. "There's no wonder he can't keep his eyes off you…"

She forced a laugh, all the while wondering whether Severus really did observe her when she wasn't paying attention, and then wondering _why_. "Malfoy, really, stop being such a git."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm being entirely serious, Granger. You're really quite attractive behind all that ridiculous hair of yours…" He leant forward, his intentions quite clear. She shifted away, quickly.

"What about Padma?"

"What about her?"

"You're her partner! You're completely compatible with one another! You must find her more attractive than me…The hat-"

"That miserable excuse for a fashion accessory failed to take into account any existing relationships she might have outside Hogwarts." He huffed. "She's rather adamant that –though we've progressed into a relatively safe friendship- our _relationship_ is entirely fictional. She's committed to some _muggle_ instead."

"Oh…"

"And as I know you're in a similar boat to myself…" He shrugged. "I thought we might give something a bit of a go…"

She blinked. Was he asking her to be his girlfriend? She almost laughed. Smothering her smirk, she sighed. "Oh, Malfoy…I'm…Well, I'm flattered…But I just don't think that _we_ would really work…"

"Why not? We've been getting along well enough…And I'm not exactly repulsed by the way you look…"

_How romantic._ She thought sarcastically. "And I don't find you repulsive either, Draco…But I'm interested in someone else…And I'm afraid that being with you wouldn't be fair, as you'd never have my undivided attention…"

"Who could you possibly…" he trailed off, everything –her reaction to his comment about Snape, her insistence that the Hat had made the right choice, and her obvious enjoyment of time spent in Snape's company- clicking into place. "_Snape? _You're interested in _Snape?_ He's clearly got a thing for you, but I'd never have thought..."

"There's nothing going on between us, though." She clarified, trying to hide her disappointment.

"But you wish there was?"

"I never said that."

"Honestly, Granger…I don't know how many times I have to say it…You're a _Gryffindor_. You're an open book."

She shrugged, deciding to ignore the comment. "Besides, Professor Snape does _not_ have a 'thing' for me. We might have progressed into mutual respect, but there's nothing more than that. Especially from him."

"Bollocks." He said, leaning against the wall, his shoulder brushing hers. "He watches you at meal-times, when you're oblivious. I've seen the look in his eyes, Hermione. He's lusting after you."

"Don't be absurd."

He shifted, so that they were practically nose to nose. "I'm telling it as I see it."

"I must be blind."

"Or oblivious."

She frowned, but found that she was unable to respond, as he had pressed his lips against hers in a surprisingly chaste kiss.

This was precisely –and irritatingly predictably- when Severus Snape stumbled upon them.

"50 points from Gryffindor," he hissed, causing them to jump apart, "for setting a bad example." He glared, pointedly. "I'd have thought the Head Girl would have had more sense than to grope another student in public."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Sir, I wasn't-"

"Silence, Granger, or I'll make it 100 points."

She bowed her head, trying to quell the panic that bubbled within her. _Stupid Malfoy! What was he thinking? Now Severus was angry and…Wait…What gave him the right to be angry? _It wasn't as though she was breaking any school rules...and she hadn't instigated it anyway! And there had been no groping! He had no reason to act so callously…unless he was jealous. Which was ridiculous. Wasn't it?

"Professor Snape, it wasn't Hermione's fault…I kissed her. I shouldn't have-"

Severus turned to glower at the Slytherin. "Mr Malfoy, I suggest that you move on to your next class, unless you would like for me to remove house points from Slytherin as well."

Draco appeared to consider his options, before disappearing down the hall and out of sight, leaving Hermione alone with the irate Professor.

Taking a deep breath, she summoned her Gryffindor courage, and announced that she should probably head off to class as well, forgetting that it was her allotted spare with the Head of Slytherin himself.

He, however, had not forgotten.

"And just which class do you have?" He asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"I…" She felt as though she'd been slapped as the realisation struck her. "Sexual Education." Then, just to be safe, added, "Sir."

His smirk didn't quite meet his eyes. "Indeed. And have you been summoned for an actual class today?"

She shook her head. "No, sir."

"So, where should you have been headed, instead of exchanging bodily fluids with Mr. Malfoy in the halls?"

She flushed an angry red, and balled her hands into fists by her side. "To your office, _sir._"

"But you couldn't help yourself, could you?" He taunted. "An illicit romp with Malfoy-"

"For Merlin's sake, Severus, it was a kiss! There was no groping or romping involved!"

"Miss Granger," he growled, making certain that they were not being overheard, "You forget your place."

Her eyes widened. "What?" She asked. "First you want to be friends and you demand that I call you by name and-"

"Silence."

"No! I will not let you bully me into submission!"

"Miss Granger, this is your final warning. If you do not remain silent, I will continue to remove house points until Gryffindor is in the negatives."

She glowered, but said nothing, and followed him to his private chambers, where he warded his door and erected strong silencing charms, preventing any unwanted eavesdroppers from overhearing any of their discussion.

"Now, Miss Granger, would you care to explain-"

"There's nothing to explain!" She spat. "He. Kissed. Me. There was nothing more than that to it."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Draco Malfoy just decided to kiss you? I think not. How long have you been…involved?"

She stared at him, incredulous. "I beg your pardon?"

He met her gaze, his jealousy –_Damn it! He was **not **jealous!- _his _anger_ evaporating at the hurt in her expression. "Hermione…You might have warned me about your relationship-"

"Setting aside the fact that there _isn't any _relationship," she sighed, "why should I have warned you? We're friends, yes, but does that mean everything that we do must be disclosed?"

"I was under the impression that this was what friends did."

Her self-righteous demeanour evaporated. "I'm sorry, Severus. You're right…I've just been a little on edge...Everyone else has moved onto the next stage of this stupid class, Ron was a right git this morning…then Draco decided that he had to kiss me…" She dropped down onto the welcoming couch. "I never thought I'd say this, but bring on the holidays."

"Surely it can't be as bad as that?" He smirked. "Not even petrification has deterred Gryffindor's little know-it-all from her love of school before."

"This is different, though." She sighed. "It's all so complicated. And…ow!" She rubbed the small of her back, knowing exactly what the pain signalled. After all, she'd been expecting it ever since she'd heard that Harry had endured the mock labour.

"You're hurt?"

She shook her head. "Not exactly. Let's just say that things are about to become much more complicated…"

Severus appeared puzzled, for only a moment, before pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. "Ah."

He could feel a head-ache coming on.

**-?-**

Hermione was allowed to summon the Mediwitch via floo from Severus' chambers. The woman arrived moments later, bringing with her a rag doll and everything she required to perform McGonagall and Flitwick's spell.

"Alright, dear, the worst of it will be over by now…" She said, patting Hermione's hand.

The Head Girl nodded. The pain hadn't been all that bad really, though she knew that this was a _severely_ diluted example of what she would experience were she to ever actually give birth.

Then, with one final 'contraction', she felt the spell wear off, and she sighed in relief.

"Ah, good! Now we can proceed on to the exciting part." Poppy Pomfrey informed her, plucking a hair from her head.

She watched as she requested the same from the Potions Professor, and waited, not entirely patiently, for him to comply.

Once both samples were collected, she twirled them together and placed them on the rag doll, before murmuring a series of charms and spells.

After a moment there was a 'pop', and the doll morphed into a convincingly real infant. One that had a prominent nose and what would clearly become a thick layer of black hair.

Hermione sighed. This would be rather complicated indeed.

**-?-**

"So, what did you and Snape decide to call her, then?" Harry asked that evening as they sat in the Heads' common room.

Hermione sighed, and observed the –thankfully- sleeping baby. "We didn't. It's completely up to me. He thinks this entire exercise is pointless; for him at the very least." She met her best friend's gaze. "I don't blame him. There are more important things he could be doing than playing house with a student."

"She does look terribly like him, though, doesn't she?"

"I wouldn't say it's _terrible_…"

Harry smothered a chuckle. "She's got his nose!"

"Yes, well…" She huffed, "It suits her…"

"That still doesn't solve the whole name issue." Goyle said, deciding to finally put in his two knut's worth. He tilted his head to the side, observing her. "Don't suppose you like the name 'Nicole'?"

His partner scrunched up his nose in distaste. "Nicole Snape? Can't say it flows very well…"

"Granger-Snape." Hermione protested, then, considering the entire title, added, "And, no, it doesn't really…"

They continued to ponder, as a group, before Hermione made her decision. "Sophia. Sophia Granger-Snape." She tested the name on her tongue, before shrugging. "It sounds nice enough, and he will probably appreciate its meaning."

"Which is?" Harry enquired.

"Wisdom. It's of Greek origin."

"Uh-huh. And you know this…how?"

She grinned. "My parents considered it for me, actually…I rather like it…"

The Boy Who Lived nodded. "It's nice."

She yawned. "Hmm…Perhaps I should head off to bed." She gently picked up the baby, and made certain that she had everything that she might need during the night, before heading into her room. She knew that she would need her wits about her over the next few days.

**-?-**

On Wednesday, the seventh years were actually required to assemble in the Hall for their Sexual Education class, in their pairs, with their children. Hermione entered alone, save for 'Sophia', as Severus refused outright to debase himself any more than was entirely necessary.

Needless to say, all eyes were on her. Very few had actually seen the product of a Granger-Snape alliance, and everyone was curious. Did the baby look more like Hermione or Snape? Was it a girl or a boy? Was it indeed half-vampire?

"Oi, Granger!" Goyle gestured to a spare seat next to Harry at the back of the Hall. He knew that she would be relatively popular, in that all eyes would be on her, and also knew that she wasn't exactly looking forward to any of the attention.

She moved to the spare space, grateful for his forethought. "Thanks," she said, dropping her bag of baby supplies with a sigh of relief.

"No problem, Granger."

"Where's Harry?"

He shrugged. "Probably slept late…He had Greg Junior. last night, after all…"

Hermione snorted. Their baby's name was actually Matthew, as neither young man had been able to agree on anything else; though Gregory still referred to him as 'Greg Jr' when Harry was out of earshot. "I hope he gets here soon…"

"He'll be right…"

"And look what we have here…"

Hermione glanced up with a sigh. "Go on, Ron. Say what you will. I don't care."

He faltered. It wasn't quite as satisfying when she failed to react. He leant forward, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Congratulations, Granger, it's a Snape." He sneered. "Hook nosed and greasy haired…I bet you're proud."

She rolled her eyes. "And if I am, Ronald?" She sighed. "I've enough on my plate without having to deal with fighting with you. Why don't you try thinking about how ashamed your mother would be if she knew how immature you're being? Better yet, why don't you go and concentrate on your own assessment? I doubt Hannah enjoys watching you make a fool of yourself…"

He clenched his jaw, and turned on his heel.

Hermione sighed. "Ron, wait…"

He turned back. "What?"

"I…I miss you. Harry and I both do. Why can't we stop acting so foolishly and sit down somewhere to talk? You know…Like we used to?"

For a moment, he appeared to consider the suggestion, before shaking his head. "Why?" He echoed. "I'll tell you why. Because the two of you tricked me, _that's why_. I thought that the last people to fancy Slytherins would be the two of you…Do you know how humiliating it was to watch you get paired off to _them_?"

"Ron…Other Gryffindors are with Slytherins…"

"They don't matter. _You_ weren't supposed to be. We _hated_ them. Or, at least, I _thought_ we did…"

"Didn't the war teach you anything?" She countered, sadly. "A person's house shouldn't determine what you think of them. Gregory is not some faceless Slytherin…He's just like you or Harry; a young man with a personality. With wants, and needs and fears…Professor Snape is also human, whether you want to believe it or not." She waited a beat, "Ron…we miss you…but, if you can't accept us for who we are…it's probably best if we go our separate ways here and now."

The other Gryffindor blinked. "I'm sorry, Hermione. Right now…" He glanced in Hannah's direction, and smiled sadly. "We're on different paths."

She attempted to swallow the lump that had lodged itself in her throat, and blinked back tears. "I'm sorry, too, Ron. If you ever change your mind…" She let the sentence hang. There wasn't much chance of him changing his mind now.

He nodded and walked away.

From there the class progressed like any other. McGonagall commended them for their efforts so far, and informed them that they were to begin writing a journal, of sorts, wherein all issues encountered were to be raised, with a brief discussion of how those issues were dealt with.

Every so often, a baby would cry, interrupting the flow of the lesson as 'parents' scrambled to calm their children. Hermione was intrigued by Sophia's demeanour throughout the class. She never grizzled or fussed, instead stared -nearly unblinking- up at the ceiling, which, on this particular day, was dull and littered with rain clouds. Even when Harry and Greg's son howled beside her, she seemed unfazed, if a little irritated.

It was most unusual behaviour for a newborn, and it left Hermione feeling rather unsettled by the close of the lesson.

Perhaps there was something _wrong _with her 'child'? The little thing might be a snitch short of a Quidditch match, though there was no history of birth defects or mental illness in her family. Severus hadn't mentioned it with regards to his family either, though that wasn't to say that it wasn't possible...

She sighed as she signed her baby over for childcare, ignoring the whispers and glances of her curious peers.

Time would most likely reveal all, and there was no use worrying now. Besides, the entire ordeal was fictional and it did not and would not affect her NEWTs one bit. Just her ego.

**-?-**

Friday's allocated spare snuck up on Hermione seemingly faster than any other. Of course, it may have felt that way simply because she'd been dreading the new requirements of the course. After all, how was she to describe dealing with Severus' straight-out refusal to participate in anything involving the 'baby', especially as she agreed that it was inconsiderate of the Headmaster to throw such a menial task upon him?

The door was open in anticipation of her arrival. She was grateful, as her hands were full carrying the baby and the bag of baby-care essentials. Her school books and supplies were shrunken and weighing down her pockets.

"Good afternoon, Severus." She said, dropping the baby-bag down beside the desk.

He glanced up from his marking. "Good afternoon."

She frowned as he returned to his work. _Well, if that was the way he wanted to be…_ "I gave her a name."

"Hmm?" He didn't look up.

"I named her." Hermione repeated, boldly sitting on the corner of his desk.

This time the Head of Slytherin did glance back up, clearly unimpressed. "Who?"

She gestured towards the sleeping bundle in her arms. "Our 'baby'."

"Surely you mean _your_ 'baby'?"

Sighing, she shrugged. "Fine. Either way, we're now to refer to her as Sophia Granger-Snape, instead of 'it', 'the baby' or 'my assignment'."

He rolled his eyes. "Sophia Snape?" He considered the name, not missing the irony of the double initial.

"Granger-Snape." Hermione corrected, smugly.

"I assure you, Girl, that were you to actually bear my children, they would take my name and my name alone."

She scowled. "That's archaic!"

He smirked. "That's the Snape way."

"Oh, what rot!" She seethed, "As if you're one to follow the rules laid down by your ancestors!"

Setting aside his quill, he arched an eyebrow. "What are you insinuating?"

"I'm not insinuating a thing." She responded, "I'm stating fact; you've gone against every other antiquated 'rule' of the Snape line so far, so why bother falling back on 'The Snape Way' now?"

Severus smirked. "Perhaps I enjoy riling you up?"

Realising that she was reacting predictably to his comments, she blushed. "You're a sadistic old sod, you are."

He chuckled lightly, and rose from his seat, offering her a hand. "Come, we'll enjoy some tea in my chambers before you say something you'll regret."

She followed him, a wild unwavering grin plastered upon her face.

In his sitting room, she summoned the shrunken makeshift bassinette from her bag of baby essentials and enlarged it, before gently placing Sophia down to nap. Her fears that there was something wrong with the little thing had abated days earlier, when the brat…that was, _darling infant_… had kept her up all night with her crying. She wasn't very vocal in public, but, in private, the child wasn't averse to testing her lungpower. It was as though she knew exactly when her mother needed to concentrate, study or sleep.

"And how is motherhood treating you?" Severus asked; his voice a welcome reprieve from Hermione's frustrated musings.

She sighed. "It's just as difficult as I'd imagined it would be…Harder still, thanks to the Headmaster and his stupid Hat. I mean, everyone else only loses half the amount of sleep. Me? I get to play 'single mother' for the entire time…I might as well wave goodbye to my NEWT scores now."

Her former professor frowned. "Perhaps there's a stasis charm you might place on the…_child_ every other night, to ensure that you remain equal with your peers?"

"No…There's not. It's cheating, you see." Hermione arched her upper lip in distaste. "The Headmaster believes that I'll achieve top scores on my NEWTS anyway…and that I should enjoy the extra challenge that this exercise provides."

Severus scowled at that. It wasn't fair for the old fool to deny the Head Girl of the extra hours that every other student possessed. Wasn't he always harping on about equity and equality and all that which was connected to the issues? How could he bear to dismiss the star student's needs so easily?

Then a thought struck him. Dumbledore wanted him to take on the _complete_ role of the other partner! Which was absurd! He was a Professor, not some hormone riddled teenager that needed to learn a few valuable life lessons! And therein lay the point. If Severus were to speak about this with the old fool, he would be faced with two options; quit his job or take the faux infant every other night.

Snape sighed. This year was getting worse with every passing moment.

"Damn that manipulative old fool," he seethed, more so for his own benefit than Hermione's.

She nodded. "Quite."

He glanced across at her. "Let's see it, then."

"What?"

"The _child_," he spoke the word as though it left a vile taste upon his tongue. "Let's see what all the fuss has been about."

Vaguely confused, Hermione picked Sophia up –careful not to wake her- and gave her to him. "Fuss, Severus?"

"The seventh year students have been rather…vocal, I suppose, about her appearance." He responded, before observing the infant in question. He was somewhat surprised by the feel of her; he'd had very little experience with babies in the past, but he knew enough to see that this imitation was realistic, right down to the very last detail. If he hadn't known better, he would have guessed that she was, in fact, real. And, he decided upon closer inspection, the Seventh years were right; she did look very much like him. He voiced his thoughts.

The Head Girl grinned. "If she were real, I would say that she's quite lucky. After all, imagine growing up with _my_ hair."

"Indeed." Snape responded, fighting the urge to touch the tiny alabaster cheeks.

"Of course," Hermione continued on, "I would hope that, as she aged, it would become obvious that she inherited _something_ from me…"

"She could have done with your nose…"

"I don't know…I think that yours suits her."

Severus looked up, mortified. "You can't be serious, woman."

She shrugged. "I rather like your nose."

Realising that they had entered dangerous territory, Severus cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the alarmingly real infant in his arms. "Perhaps," he started, "I might look after her every so often…"

"Severus, no!" She protested. "You've far more important things to do than baby-sit a child that doesn't really exist."

"As do you, Hermione." He frowned. "If the Headmaster refuses to acknowledge your need for study time, I must take matters into my own hands. This year is extremely important for you. Far too important for you to sacrifice all of your time to Sexual Education and its vaguely pathetic requirements."

She shook her head. "But you've got far more work to do than I!"

"I've had to do more work in far more strenuous circumstances," he reminded her.

"But-"

"No, Miss Granger, the argument is over. She will stay with me three nights out of seven. Have I made myself clear?"

She nodded meekly, disagreeing with his decision, but knowing that arguing further would be pointless.

He smirked. "Good."

It wasn't until she left the infant with him after their tutorial that evening that he regretted his choice.

* * *

A/N- Was it worth the wait? As per usual, all suggestions and comments are welcome!


	5. Dublin Sky

**A/N-** Thank you to everyone who has given me some form of feedback. I do hope that you enjoy this chapter…We're actually starting to get somewhere now! Yay! Of course, I still feel that Severus is terribly OOC, but I've resigned myself to the fact that it wouldn't work quite so well if he wasn't…LOL. Let me know what you think…

* * *

Hermione entered her room that night, grateful to have time to herself. She was able to read over allocated texts and do her homework without interruption, before finally sinking into the welcoming softness of her bed. 

As she waited for sleep to claim her, she wondered how Severus was getting on. It had been extremely kind of him to offer his assistance, and she could only hope that Sophia was on her best behaviour, even though logic told her that the infant would be wreaking havoc that very moment.

And she wasn't wrong.

Down in the dungeons, Severus Snape was trying his very best to not throttle Hermione's assignment.

The tiny creature had been bawling for nigh on an hour and gave no sign of stopping any time soon. It was ridiculous, really. Surely a silencing charm wouldn't do any harm…

However, according to Hermione, infants shouldn't be exposed to magic so young, as it might have negative effects on their growth…Not that this particular infant would grow into adulthood, mind you, before returning to her original state as a doll. _Especially_ if she continued on the way she was…

Snape sighed. He'd just have to get used to the wailing, he supposed. Otherwise the Head Girl would undoubtedly lose marks over his actions, and, for some strange reason, that particular thought had lost his appeal after the first week in her presence.

The baby continued to scream, slicing through his musings before they'd even had the chance to begin.

"What do you _want_?" He asked, storming up to the crib. He glowered down at her as she cried. "For Merlin's sake, be quiet!"

She kept on screaming, her tiny little hands balled into fists and flailing above her face.

Something inside her 'father' (he refused to acknowledge the title in this pathetic little masquerade) snapped, and he reached forward, picking her up as gently as he could manage in his frustrated state.

The change in position jolted her into a span of shocked silence, and she blinked up at him.

Severus couldn't help but be amused by the expression on her face. It read, for all intents and purposes, along the lines of '_And who the hell are you?'_.

"There now," he said, his anger ebbing away somewhat. "You'd best get used to my presence, as I've somehow ensured that we'll be spending a significant amount of time together until you revert back to an inanimate object."

She blinked, but -_praise Merlin!_- remained silent.

Snape couldn't believe that all that fuss had been simply a means for some physical attention. To be on the safe side, he checked her nappy. Thankfully she was still dry, though experience so far had shown him that infants didn't stay that way for long. Perhaps she was hungry? Hermione _had_ said that she generally had a little to eat before she succumbed to sleep…

Summoning a magically warmed bottle, Severus decided that it was worth attempting, at any rate, if it meant that the brat would actually go to sleep and leave him in peace.

He shifted slightly, so that the child was nestled in the crook of his left arm, and offered her the bottle with his right.

She eyed him with something akin to distrust.

"Oh, come now; if I were planning to kill you I'd simply reverse Pomfrey's charm."

Somehow, he didn't think she understood him.

"Drink, damn you."

Perhaps, he decided when she began to sob again, one small silencing charm couldn't hurt...

**-?-**

"Merlin, Severus, you look awful!"

Snape snorted at Hermione's greeting. "Brilliant assessment, as always."

"Now, really, there's no need for sarcasm." She pushed past him and plonked herself down on his couch. "You know very well that you don't have to continue taking her."

Several weeks had passed since Severus' generous -and masochistic- offer, but Hermione made a conscious effort in every conversation to remind him that he could change his mind at any time.

As usual, he waved the notion away. "Hermione, I am a man of my word-"

"You don't make promises lightly, I know." She finished for him with a sigh. "But, honestly, you look worse with each passing weekend...At least take _one_ off."

"And give Albus a reason to terminate my contract early?"

She frowned. "I'm still not certain I understand _why _he's so determined to see you leave..."

"What reason is there to keep me on?" Severus replied. "I've made it quite clear over the years that I despise most children, it's well known that my temperament is volatile at best, _and_, to top it all off, I am no longer any use as a spy due to the Dark Lord's demise."

"But you're a Potions _Master_. Surely _that _counts for _something_."

"Sadly, with the war over, even the most inept potion brewers, like our dear Professor Matthews, can provide all that is required in a school's supply of medicinal potions...I am over-qualified for this position, and, as such, I am costing the school far more than a common teacher..."

"That's no reason to get rid of you, though." Hermione huffed, gaining a small degree of satisfaction from the knowledge that the awful woman was being paid less than Snape. "What if there's an emergency? What if-"

Severus chuckled at her moral indignation, and shook his head. "They will enlist an outsider's assistance. It will still be less expensive than keeping me on staff."

"You sound as though it's inevitable."

This time it was his turn to sigh. "It _is _inevitable. This _will_ be my final year at Hogwarts." He held up a hand to stall her protests. "However, I will not leave quietly, and I _will _leave on my own terms."

She couldn't help but grin at his devious smirk. "What _are_ you planning? And don't you dare tell that it's simply to befriend me…_or _tell me to wait and see."

Severus weighed up his options. She _would_ have to know eventually. After all, she did play an integral part in his schemes, and she would _have _to be amenable to them...

But was now too soon?

He observed her openly, noticing that she still squirmed a little under his gaze.

They _had _become relatively good friends over the last few months... And it _was_ clear that she wanted to see justice served…

He nodded, his mind made up. Hopefully this was the right decision...

**-?-**

Hermione returned to her rooms later that afternoon with a smile on her face and a spring in her step.

Severus' plans were far from subtle, but they were just what the Headmaster deserved. Certainly, they could get into a lot of trouble if anything went wrong and exposed them before she held her diploma in her hands (she'd checked the school charter to be absolutely certain that, once she'd graduated, nothing could go wrong) but the Potions Master was an ex-spy _and_ a Slytherin! If _anyone _could get away with what they were about to undertake, it was him.

And the fact that she had the opportunity to plan alongside the object of her affections made it all the more enticing.

So, naturally, she had agreed to assist him, and already had the _perfect_ way to kick-start their venture.

She just had to get him to agree to it...

**-?-**

"Severus, please, think about this."

Apparently convincing him that it was indeed a perfect idea was more difficult than she'd anticipated. Another week had passed, and she was sitting on his couch, spending her Sunday afternoon arguing about their Scheme.

"Absolutely not." He hissed. "It's hardly foolproof and is as transparent as Peeves."

"Not if we do it properly." Hermione countered, hands planted firmly on her hips.

"And what, exactly, is '_properly_' in this scenario?"

"Once he's suggested it -which he needs to be manipulated into doing- you need to convince him that you hate the idea..."

"As I do..." He sneered.

Ignoring him, she forged onwards. "...And I need to argue that I am a perfectly capable witch and that your assistance is unnecessary...The usual really. The key to it all is getting him to think it up and force it upon us as a product of his own sadistic imagination."

"Which is precisely where this plan of yours can -and will- go pear-shaped."

"It's worth attempting, at the very least."

Severus sighed. "And if he sees through our attempts?"

"He won't."

"How can you be certain?"

Smiling with the knowledge that she was quickly gaining the upper-hand, Hermione shook her head at Dumbledore's expense. "He's getting too confident…He seems to have forgotten that pride comes before a fall, if you'll excuse the cliché. All we need to do is somehow feed him the information -preferably in a situation where he thinks he's eavesdropping on a private conversation or what have you- and let him put the pieces together on his own. Then we feign outrage and disbelief when he calls us into his office to relay his ideas." Her smile morphed into one of smug triumph. "He'll never suspect a thing."

Rolling his eyes in order to disguise his amusement, Severus sighed. "This plan of yours will have to be executed relatively soon…"

"You're fine with it, then?"

Nodding, he was taken by surprise when she gave him a brief -but, ultimately, too intimate for his liking- hug.

"You won't regret it."

He swallowed and willed his treacherous body to remain calm. Her hug had brought the images from his dreams to the forefront of his mind again, and he was suddenly all-too-aware of their proximity to one another…

Somehow, deep down, he knew that he would, in fact, regret this decision above all others...

**-?-**

"So...where are you off to for the Christmas hols, 'Mione?" Harry asked over breakfast the next morning, after the Head Girl subtly pushed the conversation towards the festive season (which was, as she had pointed out, 'just around the corner'.)

She shrugged nonchalantly, hoping that the staff table -in particular the Headmaster- could hear their discussion. As they were seated at the very end of the Slytherin table nearest to the staff, she knew that it was highly probable. "I'm staying here, I suppose." She replied, averting her gaze. Her parents had been called away for a dentistry convention and, as she was not yet a Hogwarts graduate, she could not legally leave the school without a guardian. Certainly, she was considered an adult in the Muggle world as she was over 18 years of age, but the rules were different in the Wizarding world, and she was counting on Dumbledore to recognise just how powerless that made her feel. "There's bound to be someone here with me…"

She felt vaguely guilty manipulating Harry in this way; he had no idea that this very conversation was being used to her advantage, and knew that he would be appalled if he had any idea of The Plan.

"I would invite you along with me…" he began, "but-"

"You've been invited to go along with Greg and his family, I know." She offered him a small, slightly pained smile. "Enjoy yourself for me, alright? I'll be fine here…I mean, I know just about everyone in our year is off with their partners...But I'll at least have the library pretty much to myself…"

"You can't tell me that you mean that, Granger." Malfoy cut in, reaching across her for some toast.

She frowned. "Why not? It'll be a brilliant opportunity to brush up for NEWTs…"

"Look, my aunt has a chalet in the Alps…You'd be more than welcome to join me…"

Though they had patched up their friendship after the 'kiss' incident, Hermione was still loathe to spend time alone with the blonde boy. And, if the glint in his eye was anything to go by, she had every reason to be weary around him…

"No, Draco, I couldn't…For obvious reasons."

He frowned, but nodded. "I suppose some of my family mightn't be all that inviting…"

She patted his hand reassuringly. "I'll come visit once we've graduated…When you've a place of your own."

She didn't know why she had to lead him on like that, though it did carry with it the added bonus of throwing the Headmaster off the scent of her attraction to Severus…

"So that's it, then? You'll be spending Christmas alone?" Goyle asked, furrowing his brow in concern.

She shook her head. "Of course not." She watched as her counterparts visibly relaxed, and she smiled. "I'll have Sophia."

The boys groaned in unison and voiced their complaints all over again.

From his position at the staff table Severus stole a surreptitious glance at the Headmaster and was pleased to note that the old fool was watching Hermione's group with interest. It was more than likely that he was taking in every word, which was exactly what he and Hermione were counting on.

Back at the Slytherin table, the Head Girl was preparing herself for the most important part of the discussion. If she was convincing enough, The Plan would go off without a hitch.

"At least Professor Snape won't be here." She told them with a smile.

"I thought you were actually getting on alright now..."

_Thank you, Harry._ She nodded. "I suppose we are... But you know how he is... I think he's looking forward to some private time. Merlin knows he deserves it..."

"Oh...Where's he off to?"

"I don't know..." She feigned irritation, "I'm not his keeper, Harry."

Taking a sip of juice, Draco shrugged. "I think he has a property in the country that he's been trying to renovate..."

"Yes, he has mentioned it..." Hermione agreed, "And that makes sense...He'll probably get a lot of work done without this stupid Sexual Education stuff taking up all of his spare time."

And there it was; the clincher. There was nothing more to do now but wait for the Headmaster to inform them of his self-assuredly great idea.

Predictably, Dumbledore sent for them that very evening.

"Ah, Severus, come in, come in..." The old man beckoned, proffering his bag of lemon drops.

The Potions Master declined the sweets with a shake of his head. Sitting himself down in front of the desk, he sighed. "Let's forgo the pleasantries, Albus, and get to exactly what you want of me now."

"Very well," the older wizard replied, "I was hoping to wait until Miss Granger arrives, but that is neither here nor there..."

On cue, Severus narrowed his eyes. "Miss Granger?" He echoed. "Certainly you've forced enough time with her on me..."

This was, of course, exactly the attitude that Dumbledore was expecting. He chuckled, sounding rather pleased with himself. After all, it looked as though driving the no-longer spy from the school wouldn't be as difficult as he had started to fear.

"Now, now, my boy..." he beamed, his eyes twinkling, "It can't be as bad as all that...Why, I was even under the impression that the two of you are getting along rather well..."

"We haven't killed one another yet, if that is what you mean."

Ignoring that particular comment, Albus pressed on. "At any rate, it has come to my attention that Miss Granger has no-one with whom to spend her Christmas break."

"And this has what, precisely, to do with me?"

"Well, as you _are_ her partner..." he trailed off, allowing the other man to put two and two together.

Humouring his employer, Severus waited a beat (under the guise of processing the information) before protesting. "No, Albus." He seethed. "Absolutely not. I have plans of my own for these holidays and I refuse to remain here as a babysitter."

"I understand that you have plans, and I wouldn't dream of asking you to remain here...However, I expect you to take Miss Granger with you. I suspect you could both benefit from the company-"

Again, Snape took the cue to argue, which only served to strengthen the older wizard's resolve, as he and Hermione had hoped.

Speaking of the girl, where was she? Fashionably late was one thing, but not turning up at all was another...

Just as he was about to mention her absence, though, she burst through the office door, a wailing infant in her arms.

"And she _finally _decides to grace us with her presence," he sneered, inwardly taking in her flustered appearance and making a mental note to take her back to his chambers for tea once the meeting was over.

"Sorry Professors...I've had a bit of trouble with Sophia here...as you can probably tell..."

"Whether you can control a make-believe infant is of no concern to me, Granger. Find some way to shut it up and let's get on with this."

"Now, Severus, if you are going to be spending the holidays together, you are going to have to be a little more compassionate..."

Hermione frowned and feigned confusion. "I'm sorry, Sir, I thought I just heard you say that I'm to spend the holidays with Professor Snape…"

"That I did, Child."

She stared at him, wanting nothing more than to wipe the smug look from his face. "But...Sir...That's hardly fair on the Professor...and I'm more than capable of taking care of myself..."

"I understand that you are an independent young woman, Miss Granger, but I cannot allow anyone to spend the festive season alone."

"Headmaster-"

"I have spoken, Miss Granger. You _will spend_ the holidays with Professor Snape and that is final."

She averted her gaze and nodded with a sigh. "Yes, Headmaster."

He leant back in his chair, pleased when neither Hermione nor Snape argued further. "Now, go and enjoy yourselves..."

They left in an angry silence, save for the sobs of the baby in Hermione's arms.

**-?-**

"Now, you've got everything you need?"

Snape sent her a withering glare. "Honestly, Girl, I am not as incompetent as Potter, so I would appreciate it if you stopped treating me as such."

She had the good grace to look sheepish. "Sorry...I'm used to making sure everyone else is organised...It's just habit now."

"Indeed."

Hermione blushed, and decided to change the topic. "When do we leave?"

"As I've already told you; when the carriage arrives." Severus cocked his head to the side, "Are you feeling quite alright?"

"I'm fine." She responded, feeling a little giddy with the knowledge that he was concerned about her. "Just a tad bit nervous."

The Christmas holidays had finally arrived and Severus and Hermione were standing upon the stone steps of Hogwarts, awaiting the carriage that would take them to the train station, from whence they would go to Snape Manor, via train and then yet another carriage. Hermione no longer worried that their plan wouldn't work... No, _now_ she worried that it would work too well.

"Nervous?"

She felt her cheeks heat up under his gaze. "Just a bit."

He frowned. "We don't have to go through with The Plan. We can enjoy the break and let that be that..."

"No! No. I do want to go through with The Plan...It's just-"

She didn't get to finish, though, as the carriage arrived at that moment and the conversation was forgotten.

Or at least, she _thought _it was.

**-?-**

"Wake up," Severus said, shaking her gently, "We're here."

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Hermione yawned. "You let me sleep?" She accused.

He smirked. "You ask fewer questions that way."

She rolled her eyes. "Charming." With another yawn, she peered out through the carriage window. A large brick building loomed ahead of them. "That's your _house?_"

"_Manor_," he corrected. "And, yes."

"It's amazing..."

"It's falling to pieces."

She swivelled in her seat to face him. "But you _are_ fixing it?"

He nodded. "I'm getting there."

"Well," she started, turning back to the window. "There's two of us, now."

"It's going to take longer than a couple of weeks..."

"Once school lets out we'll have loads more time..."

He felt a pang of something -longing and tenderness, to be precise- surge through him, and he quickly pushed the feelings aside. "Won't you be off exploring the world with your friends?"

She turned back to him once more. "Severus, you _are _my friend. And if you're not going to be living at Hogwarts any more, I am going to personally make sure that your home is liveable." She pushed the carriage door open and stepped out onto the road. "Are you coming?"

He gathered his thoughts and nodded, carefully lifting the bassinette and passing the sleeping infant to its mother, before paying the driver and joining Hermione on the driveway.

They made their way towards the building, each wrapped in their own thoughts. Severus unlocked the front door and instructed Hermione to wait there while he inspected the rest of be building and determined which areas were safest and which needed to be avoided completely.

When he returned to the front door he was looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"What's the verdict?"

"It's in pretty bad shape." He replied, avoiding his young guest's gaze. "Most of the upper level is completely uninhabitable."

"Oh no..."

" 'Oh no' indeed." Severus sighed. "It should take the best part of our stay to repair those rooms alone."

She frowned. "Is it safe to stay at all?"

"The master suite is exactly as I left it..." He fought the urge to shuffle his feet. "But that is it."

"So we'll be sharing a room, then." She concluded, suddenly understanding his awkward behaviour. He nodded.

"I will, of course, conjure a couch or a day bed for myself-"

"Don't be stupid." She admonished him. "We can share the bed. As friends." He moved to protest, and she shook her head. "And don't try telling me that it's inappropriate. Considering the stint we're going to pull at the Leaving Feast, it's hardly a valid argument."

He sighed in acquiescence. "Fine. But I don't want to hear complaints that I snore or steal the covers. On your head be it."

She laughed.

**-?-**

For someone that had argued about the normality of sharing a bed with a friend, Hermione was clearly quite nervous.

Her fears from earlier in the day were resurfacing, and again she found herself wondering if she was getting too involved. After all, she had done such a good job in smothering her feelings...would all this time spent in his company bring her attraction back to the forefront of her thoughts and emotions? And, if so, would she be able to cope with the rejection again?

Severus watched her pace across the room. "Surely the prospect of sharing a bed with me isn't _finally _unnerving you?"

Startled, she jumped and shook her head. "No... Of course not. I'm just thinking."

He arched an eyebrow, clearly sceptical. "Thinking about what made you nervous this morning, perhaps?"

Hermione took a moment to consider her response. Telling him the truth might make things awkward, but lying to him would probably send the message that she didn't trust him...

"Yes..." She finally admitted, "But I'm just being silly and over-analysing things..."

"Such as?"

"I just hope we can pull this off without anything going wrong, really." It wasn't a lie, as such... She was just avoiding the direct truth. "And that's it. I promise."

Severus nodded, apparently accepting her explanation. "There's nothing that can possibly go wrong now." He said, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "From here on in all that needs to be done is a compilation and calibration of stories, which we will perfect as the year wears on."

In fact, he decided, the only thing that could possibly go wrong would come from getting too involved with the young woman. He'd already resigned himself to the fact that he found her attractive, and he knew that she was attracted to him... However, she deserved far better than he could offer. And no matter what sort of plan they were preparing to unleash, their relationship itself would never go beyond friendship. Severus couldn't allow it to. He wouldn't.

Little did he know just how similar his musings were to those of his guest.

By the time Snape shook himself from his thoughts, Hermione had fed and changed Sophia and put her to bed in the crib they had set up at the foot of the bed.

"Right," the Gryffindor said, gathering her nightie from her resized trunk. "I'll be back in a tic..." She disappeared into the ensuite -which they had repaired earlier that afternoon- and emerged five minutes later dressed for sleep.

Or at least Severus _assumed _she had sleep planned. For a winter night-dress it was somewhat...revealing. It clung to her curves and scooped at the chest... He swallowed. This didn't bode too well. His traitorous body was reacting in the most primal way, and he dreaded the images that awaited him in his dreams.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked as she neared the bed. Snape had pulled the covers up around him and was staring at her in what appeared to be mortification. "Severus?" She had reached the bed and lightly touched his shoulder.

He jolted back to reality. "Merlin's beard, Woman, aren't you _cold _in that?"

She shook her head. "It's got warming charms woven into the fabric. They adjust to the temperature of the room, so I always feel just right."

_I'll wager you do... _He thought lustfully, before forcing the lecherous thoughts from his mind.

"Indeed."

Furrowing her brow, Hermione asked once more if he was feeling alright.

After assuring her that, yes, he was fine, he shifted his position so that she could climb into the bed and make herself comfortable.

Silence reigned for a least an hour before Hermione rolled over, complaining, "This is silly."

"Care to elaborate?" Severus grunted, trying to will away his arousal. Honestly, it wasn't the first time he'd had an attractive young woman in his bed, so there was absolutely no reason for his body to be reacting in such a strong way.

"The strangeness... There's no reason to feel so...awkward."

"It's not everyday I share my bed..."

"Nor I...But we're friends..." She propped herself up with an elbow. Her lips were close to his shoulder. So close that he could feel the warmth of her breath as she spoke softly. "I'm comfortable enough with you for this not to feel so odd..." _Discounting my feelings, of course... _

Lying on his back, Severus twisted his neck to peer down at her. "It wasn't all that long ago that you were still my student...Friendship or no, sharing a bed was bound to be awkward."

They fell into a more comfortable silence after that, which was soon broken by the sounds of a waking infant.

"Aren't you going to tend to her?" Severus asked when Hermione made no move to get up.

"No." She replied. "I'm waiting to see whether she's just fussing -at which point she'll go back to sleep on her own- or whether there's something really wrong."

The Potions Master was impressed. "You've really taken to this like a duck to water, haven't you?"

Hermione felt her cheeks colour. "It's getting easier..." The snuffles morphed into full-blown cries and she sighed. "There's my cue..." She pushed herself from the bed and took the squalling infant from her crib. Checking that no changes were in order, Hermione crawled back into the bed. "There." She told the baby. "You have company now. Is that better?"

Spying her 'father' -who had come to the conclusion that a wailing baby was an effective tool in ridding oneself of unwanted erections- Sophia stopped crying and stared.

"You know," Hermione began, "I'm beginning to think that you can take her every night if this is how she reacts to your presence..."

Severus merely smirked.

**-?-**

The Potions Master woke the next morning feeling somewhat disoriented. It took him a moment to remember where he was and who he was with. A weight on his chest took hold of his attention and he looked down, only to discover a mass of bushy hair obscuring his view.

Apparently, his house guest was _-Dear_ _Merlin_- cuddling him!

The mass of hair moved.

She was awake.

Before he could feign sleep, she was looking him in the eye.

_Yawn. _"Morning, Severus."

"Indeed."

She yawned again and rubbed at her eyes, before burrowing into his chest. A moment later she apparently realised what she was doing, as she tensed and raised her head, cheeks aflame.

"I am so...I didn't mean..." She babbled. "I'm going to get up now."

Within moments she was in the bathroom, leaving Severus alone with his thoughts.

His body had reacted predictably to Hermione's position, and his mind was filtering in traitorous thoughts about how good she felt pressed against him and how nice it would be to wake up with her in more compromising positions...

_Come on Sophia, _he silently urged, remembering the effect her wails had had the previous night. _Start crying._

**-?-**

The day passed without either of them mentioning that morning, though interactions between them had become strained.

When the next morning began in the same fashion, both Hermione and Severus realised that they had to talk it out and be done with it.

"This _is _beyond a joke, isn't it?" The Gryffindor asked as she emerged from the bathroom that morning.

He nodded.

"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable..."

"I know that much."

She sighed. "It's instinct more than anything on my part...After all, I'm waking up next to a tall, dark, handsome man..."

Snape snorted. "I'm hardly handsome..."

"You are to some." she responded quietly. "But...moving on before I make this even more uncomfortable..."

"You don't need to apologise for what you do in your sleep, Hermione. I don't care that you..." Sweet Merlin, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Hug you?" She offered.

"Quite."

Her face fell. "Still...I am sorry... I know that you dislike the idea of me being attracted to you, so waking up with me like that must be awful."

_It is, _he decided, _but not the way you think. _It was awful because he wanted her. He wanted to take her and ravish her. Waking up with her sprawled across him tempted him on so many levels, but he refused to give in. He was happy to sacrifice his need for carnal satisfaction if it meant that their friendship -and his ethics- remained intact.

"Hermione," he spoke softly, knowing that, once he reassured her that her assumption was incorrect, there would be no going back. "Waking up next to you in such a way does disturb me..." She began to tear up, and he spat his confession out as quickly as he possibly could. "However, it is disturbing because it...arouses me."

Staring back, positively dumbstruck, Hermione gaped. "Don't mock me, Severus."

"Mock?" He echoed. "Do you think me that low?"

She shook her head as he advanced.

Standing mere inches in front of her, he leant down to stare her in the eye. "I would never joke about such a thing."

She searched his eyes for a sign that he was lying but could find only honesty. Then something in him changed and she felt herself moving closer...He, too, was leaning down, angling his face so that their lips would soon connect...

They jumped apart, however, at the sound of loud wails.

Sophia had decided to wake up and, to Severus, it wasn't a moment too late.

Shaken by what he had almost done, the Potions Master uttered a horrified apology and fled from the room, determined not to look back.

**-?-**

The two spent the day apart, each dwelling on the 'almost' kiss. Severus couldn't believe how close he had come to taking advantage of his young charge, while Hermione couldn't believe what rotten timing her faux-daughter had. She was certain that, had she and Severus actually kissed, she could have convinced him that a relationship between them wasn't wrong and impossible after all. In fact, it wouldn't change anything of their Plan, other than making it much easier to convince the Board and Governors that Dumbledore had pushed them into a relationship…

So, coming to the conclusion that she would simply have to talk him into a corner again, Hermione set off to find Severus and get his attention.

Hearing a noise from a bedroom down the hall, she lifted Sophia into her arms and went to investigate.

The door closed behind her, causing her to jump. She spun around and came face to face with a positively stunning woman.

"Merlin," Hermione gasped. "You startled me." The woman remained silent. Feeling uneasy, Hermione addressed her again. "If you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

The lady broke into a broad –disturbing- grin. "I am Severus' wife, of course."

Hermione felt as though she'd been struck. _Wife?_ Severus had never mentioned a marriage.

"I know what you're thinking, Mudblood...And yes, Severus _is _married. He makes a sport of seducing young women... You are the first Mudblood, though..." The woman picked imaginary lint from her blouse and flicked it in Hermione's direction. "You're not good enough for him...Not like the others...At least _they_ passed their NEWTs...You're going to fail."

_She' s_ _lying. _Hermione told herself, fighting the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. _Think about it. This place has been practically abandoned for years... Snape **never **used to leave Hogwarts during the war, and he **would** have told me about a wife._

She spied an old wardrobe in the corner of the room and almost slapped herself. _She's a bloody boggart! Oh, Hermione, you **fool**!_

Reaching for her wand, Hermione considered an apt punishment and cried "Riddikulus!" then burst into laughter -most of it forced- when the woman was covered head to toe in mud. Banishing the boggart back to the wardrobe, and, having sealed the doors with a mediocre Colloportus charm, she sighed and returned to the master bedroom to ponder.

Apparently her greatest fear now was for Severus to be married to an elitist, pureblood bitch. She also feared that he was playing with her...and that she wasn't good enough for him. She certainly felt that she wasn't attractive enough...

But he _did _find her attractive. He'd admitted as much that morning. And she _knew _that he didn't subscribe to the 'Muggle borns are inferior' school of thought...

"Hermione?" His voice provided a welcome reprieve from her reverie, and she smiled up at him.

"Hi."

"About earlier..." he began, "I apologise for crossing a line..."

"A line that _you _put there in the first place..." She stopped herself and sighed. "You don't have anything to apologise for, though." _Your wife on the other hand..._ She grinned.

"Nevertheless," The Slytherin offered, "I believe we could both do with a night out..."

"Out?"

Smirking, Snape nodded. "I've arranged for a stay in a Muggle Bed and Breakfast in Dublin..." At her questioning glance, he elaborated. "I've an acquaintance there...he owns the establishment. I thought it would be...pleasant."

"Oh, Severus," she beamed. "It sounds wonderful."

And it was.

They arrived by apparition, as it was the safest mode of transport for Sophia, and checked into their rooms. Hermione was vaguely disappointed to find that they would be separated for the night, but was so overwhelmed by the kindness of Severus' gesture that her disappointment soon faded away.

They ordered dinner from a near-by Muggle restaurant and ate it on the balcony, under the stars.

It was almost romantic...or, rather it was extremely romantic, but Hermione knew that saying as much would be a very bad idea.

She shivered involuntarily.

"You're going to catch your death out here."

Had he been watching her? She smiled and rubbed her upper arms for warmth. "Perhaps we should head inside..."

He rose and offered her his hand, which she happily accepted, and led her back into the room.

In order to avoid awkward silence, Hermione chose to bid him good-night and leave the evening on a pleasant note.

Determined to remain a gentleman (namely to make up for his behaviour that morning), Severus accompanied her to her door across the hall.

"Tonight was really nice," she informed him, touching his upper arm affectionately. "Thank you."

"You are more than welcome." He replied, feeling as though he were a gangly teenager again. It really was ridiculous. She shouldn't be able to affect him so. He had to get a grip on his senses...and soon!

Also feeling somewhat foolish, Hermione shuffled her feet and, on a whim, propped herself up on her toes and placed a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Good-night, Severus."

Before he could react, she had raced into her room and shut the door, prepared to spend the night dwelling on her actions.

**-?-**

The next day was spent sightseeing and shopping under the guise of clueless Muggles. They had received odd glances when they stopped for lunch, until Severus had gruffly explained to a curious waitress that his wife had perished during childbirth -"hence the infant"- and that Hermione was nothing more than his au pair.

"You might have been a little nicer..." Hermione whispered as they left.

He arched an eyebrow. "And _she _might have kept her nose out of our business."

She was about to argue the point with him, when someone called out her name. "Hermione?"

She turned to face the owner of the voice and was more than startled to come face to face with her summer fling. "Jackson?" She gave him a hug, forgetting, momentarily, about the infant in her arms. "What are you doing here, of all places?"

He grinned as they pulled apart. "Pool boys take holidays too, you know. 'Sides, it's cold. The resort doesn't need a pool –or its boys- in winter. Which means I get to spend time with my family…"

"I didn't realise you had family in the UK..."

"We didn't exactly do much talking, if I remember correctly." She blushed, and he sobered. "Speaking of…" He gestured towards Sophia.

Hermione's blush deepened. Dear Merlin, despite simple maths negating the possibility, he thought she was his! There _was_ a likeness between he and Severus –and thus the baby- after all. "Oh, Sophia…she's-"

"Mine." A decidedly intimidating voice interrupted, and Hermione winced. She'd forgotten that Severus was even there!

Jackson looked between the stranger and his summer fling. "Oh…" He looked sheepish. "She's really cute…"

Snape looked down his aquiline nose at the young man. "Thank you."

"Oh…How rude of me! I didn't even _think_ to introduce you…" The Gryffindor smiled uneasily. "Jackson, this is Professor Severus Snape. He teaches-" She almost said 'Potions' "-Chemistry at my boarding school, and asked me to be his nanny this winter, as he knew my parents were called away." She turned to her former Professor, noticing just how unimpressed he appeared with her. "Severus, Sir, this is Jackson…He and I met over last summer, and made friends quite quickly…" _Amongst other things…_ "It's quite the surprise to see him here."

"Indeed." The older man said, brusquely shaking the other's hand. He checked his watch only moments later. "Anyway, as _touching_ as your little reunion is, we must be off. I have an urgent call to make that simply cannot wait a moment longer."

Hermione sent an apologetic glance in the younger man's direction. "Well, it was a lovely surprise to see you again…" She said, leaning in for a brief hug. "Enjoy the rest of your holidays."

Jackson nodded. "You too, Hermione. Take care."

She smiled once more, then trotted away to catch up with Severus, wincing when he scowled and pointedly ignored her attempts to start up conversation.

She sighed to herself and trudged along behind him.

And things had been going so well between them, too…

* * *

A/N- You know the drill, people. ((GRIN)) 


	6. Hero

A/N – Oh thank you to everyone who reviewed and kept me motivated on this one…I'm now back at uni, and this semester is the most important in my entire degree, so don't be surprised if this particular fic isn't updated for the next 4 months or so…I'll try my bery best to write in between essays and prac, but I can't promise anything…See, I have to prepare my final portfolio and interview piece this year…shudders The things we Queenslanders go through to be teachers… Anyway, I do hope this chapter was worth the wait, and that it will…er…_satisfy_ you for the time being. ((Grins)) Let me know…

* * *

Upon arrival at the Bed and Breakfast, Snape informed Hermione that they would be returning to Snape Manor within the hour, then stormed into his room, presumably to pack.

Hermione sighed. They couldn't spend the rest of the holidays like this, but she wasn't prepared to talk to him just yet. He needed time to calm down, despite the fact that he had absolutely no right to be angry with her to begin with; a point she was prepared to raise, should their argument (there was no doubt in her mind that it would be anything less than that) call for it.

"This was never going to be easy." She reminded herself aloud. "I should be flattered by his reaction. _Pleased_, even."

Sophia gurgled a sleepy response.

**-?-**

"Severus?" Hermione queried later that night, having sought him out when he'd failed to join her in bed.

He sat in a high backed leather chair in the downstairs study, nursing a snifter of brandy and staring into the embers of a fire long dead. He barely glanced up at the sound of her voice. "Leave me be." From the corner of his eye he could see her silhouette; she stayed, not even wavering at the bite in his tone. Frustrated, he threw his glass at the fireplace, where it promptly shattered, the last of the liquid reacting violently with what was left of the fire. "Go!" He hollered. Still she stayed.

_Damned Gryffindor._

"Severus." She stepped forward and he vaguely registered that she was shaking, for which he immediately felt guilty.

_Damned **Woman.**_

"Sev-" She tried again, her voice hitching. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she moved forward again and dropped to his level, gently grasping his hand in the process. "Severus, _please_...Talk to me."

"I've nothing to say to you." He responded, his tone curt. "Leave me be."

The well of self-righteous anger inside the young woman over-flowed and bubbled to the surface, drowning the fear and sadness she had felt only moments earlier. Pushing herself to her feet, she glowered down at him, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "I am not leaving until you tell me what's bothering you."

He scowled. "Who do you think you are, invading my privacy and speaking to me in such a tone?"

"Your _friend_." She informed him matter-of-factly. "And I will not let you drink yourself into oblivion or scare me away just because you're in a mood."

"You should have more respect."

"I will not respect you if you continue to act like child."

Silence fell between them, and they glared at one another.

After a few minutes had passed, Hermione felt calm enough to speak again.

"What did I say or do to provoke this?" She asked. When he refused to answer, she hypothesised aloud. "It wasn't the fact that I kissed you, as our day following that was relatively pleasant. Then Jackson appeared..." Snape frowned at the mention of her ex-lover's name. _Ah-ha! _She fought the urge to smirk. _He **was** jealous! _"So, clearly, this has something to do with him..." She paused. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"You're always right." He mocked her sneering maliciously as he continued. "An insufferable, know-it-all _child_; which I've said all along."

She blinked, momentarily stung. _He doesn't mean it. _She reasoned silently. _He's just...insecure._ Somehow, though, she knew that excuse just wouldn't cut it. "Severus..." She began, "Jackson...He and I..." _What? He and I what? _Was there anything she could say that wouldn't sound pathetic and rehearsed? "I never-"

"Save your breath, Girl. I don't care about your conquests."

"Obviously you do," she countered, "otherwise you wouldn't be acting this way." She watched as his fingers tightened around the arm of the chair, the usually pale finger tips and knuckles turning white with the pressure.

He ground his teeth and struggled to calm himself. He knew she was right, and it angered him more than he cared to admit. After all, his biggest fear had come to pass: he'd allowed himself to feel comfortable with the suggestion of an intimate relationship with a student. Hell, he had even prepared himself for one, thinking that it might actually work out for the long run! Then that _boy _had turned up and shattered his illusions, and he had realised that Hermione couldn't possibly want the same things as he. She was young and attractive with the world at her feet. The last thing that she would want -or _need_- would be an older, cantankerous former Death Eater holding her back.

A sort of sad resignation settled in the depths of his soul, eliminating the anger, and he sighed. "It's complicated, Miss Granger." He eventually admitted.

"Don't go back to the 'Miss Granger' rubbish now...Especially seeing as it was your idea to be on a first name basis to begin with..."

"And it was a bad idea. This entire situation was a bad idea."

"I disagree."

Despite himself, he snorted. "You would."

She smiled, but it was short-lived. "Why is it complicated? I thought I'd made my intentions clear...You were as keen as I was... As I still _am_..." He looked away, and she frowned. "Severus, my feelings haven't changed. Seeing Jackson was a surprise, yes, but it hasn't had any effect on the way I feel about you... About _us_." She took a deep breath. "I'd have thought that perhaps the knowledge that I'm not a virgin would have removed some of your anxiety, not added to it..." Realising that she hadn't exactly made herself clear, she rushed to extrapolate. "What I mean by that is that I understand you might have felt...conflicted, I suppose, at the thought of taking my innocence, so to speak. Though, I should point out, being involved in a war did that. My decision to give my virginity away was actually an attempt to recapture a little of that innocence, in a roundabout way." She hesitated. "Does that even make sense?"

"Not really."

"Oh."

After a span of silence, Severus tentatively asked, "How many lovers have there been?"

"Just Jackson. Men don't generally notice me...Not that I'd be willing to let just _anyone _that close. As I've said, Jackson was a spur of the moment decision...The war had just ended, I'd survived...and I wanted to feel like a normal seventeen year old...if only for a week." She smiled softly. "It really wasn't fair on him, you know. While I was with him, I was thinking of someone else...Someone I knew would never think of me in that light...It helped that Jackson resembled him..." She trailed off, feeling a little sheepish and rather vulnerable.

Severus stared. Had she really harboured feelings for him for that long? Perhaps even longer still? Was it really wrong for him to want her as well? He'd been able to convince himself that it wasn't immoral earlier...Surely the knowledge that she'd been yearning for his embrace -even in another man's arms- could only make his initial argument stronger...

"Hermione," he began, his voice sounding strangely strangled, even to his own ears, "I'm not the man you want me to be."

She rolled her eyes. "If you're about to suggest that I'm after a warm, soft, thoughtful type to pamper me and shower me with flowers and gifts, I _will _hex you." She sat tentatively on the arm of the chair, craning her neck to face him. "I know you're stubborn. I know that you don't often offer compliments or the like. I know that any gifts you give will be of practical or academic value and will only be given on occasions where gifts are required, rather than on a whim. I know that you show affection with gestures and carefully veiled concern..." Her gaze was fond, her smile soft and her tone gentle. "You are perfect as you are. You _are_ the man I want."

Snape's throat suddenly felt dry. "Hermione, I don't believe you understand-"

"I understand perfectly." She sighed. "I don't expect anything to happen between us immediately. Nor do I expect us to get along brilliantly all the time. However, I refuse to ignore my feelings any longer now that I am _certain_ you reciprocate."

The alcohol Severus had imbibed that evening was beginning to undermine his judgement, as well as his inhibitions. He felt it best to warn her, as her speech and their proximity had already aroused him to the point of no return. "Be that as it may, Hermione, I believe it would be best if you left me be for the night, as I have had a fair bit to drink and I am not certain how much longer I can last before I become a slave to my more... primitive urges."

A sly smile -one worthy of Salazar Slytherin himself- slowly spread across her face. She leant closer to him, so that their lips were almost touching, the gentle warmth of her breath effectively sending erotic shivers down his spine when she spoke. "Perhaps I was wrong then..." She whispered. "Perhaps things might just happen immediately after all..."

He closed his eyes, wishing that she would leave him well enough alone, while at the same time wanting nothing more than to have his way with her.

Realising that she would have to make the first official move, Hermione gently pressed her lips to his, begging entrance with her tongue, which he accepted with a moan of approval and need. However, he pushed away moments later as waves of guilt washed over him.

"This is wrong." He said.

"Severus..." She panted, fairly aware that she was too deeply involved now to let him ruin it all, "We've been through all this! I'm not your student; Dumbledore even went as far as making us equals with my assessment! And don't start on the age difference rot either." She added when he moved to argue. "I am considered a consenting adult in both Muggle and Wizarding spheres...Add to that the fact that magical folk have extended lifespans, which makes a nineteen year difference average at worst..." She paused. "This-" she gestured between them. "-is _not _wrong by any means. Besides," she grinned wickedly, "I'd feel much better if we were truthful at the Leaving Feast. After all, we were going to have to put on a show... At least this way, if tested under Veritaserum or memory examinations via pensieves, our stories would hold, meaning greater chance of truly punishing Dumbledore."

Unable to fault her reasoning, he rolled his eyes. "And the fact that you'll be getting what you've wanted all along?"

Her grin turned positively predatory. "A welcome bonus."

As she claimed his lips again, he vaguely mused over her sudden aggressive persona. What had happened to the bookish schoolgirl? Where had this temptress come from? She'd always been a dominant figure in the classroom and in the war, he supposed it seemed only natural that she'd be the same in the bedroom, so to speak. She certainly knew what she wanted, and _definitely _knew how to get it...

He gasped as he felt her hand fondling his erection through the fabric of his trousers. "Merlin, Woman..."

She giggled, clearly delighted with his reaction. "Imagine that," she said deviously. "The feared Potions Master _can _be reduced to monosyllabic responses."

"I'll have you know those words contained more than one sylla-" her hand was now _inside _his trousers, and he trailed off with a moan.

"You were saying?" Hermione asked innocently, not even pausing her ministrations.

This time it was he that initiated the kiss. Pulling away to catch his breath, he took the opportunity to gather his thoughts. He knew there was no turning back now, though he wasn't certain that, given the opportunity, he would have turned back at all. However, he also knew that it would be best to slow down somewhat, despite the release he so desperately needed.

"Hermione," He protested softly, as she began to suckle his neck. "Stop." She complied, looking thoroughly perplexed.

"What's wrong?"

"Perhaps we should…pace ourselves."

"Pace ourselves?" She echoed.

Nodding, he extrapolated. "I don't believe we should rush into this-"

"Who says we're rushing?" Hermione was not impressed. She understood that he was trying to be a gentleman, giving her the option to reconsider, but, damn it, she'd wanted this for so long… "Severus, over the past few months our relationship has developed at an almost excruciatingly slow pace…I've finally managed to get you to see sense and you want to _stop_?"

The Slytherin shook his head. "Not stop, exactly…But you must understand, Hermione, I am already far too attached to you than I am comfortable admitting. If we consummate our 'relationship', as you've dubbed it, I will not let you go, should you realise that you've made a mistake. I'm for life, Hermione. You need to consider the ramifications that your decision to sleep with me will bring." _Alright_, he mused once he'd said it, '_I'm for life' was perhaps a little too melodramatic, even for a Hufflepuff! _And he was no Hufflepuff. However, he couldn't think of anything else to say that would shake some sense into her. It would just have to do. And, taking one look at her stunned expression, it appeared to have done the trick.

She blinked. She was only eighteen, was she ready to make such a commitment? She knew that she lusted after him, and it was true that she loved him…But was she _in love_ with him? Though she longed to say that yes, she was, she knew, deep down, that she didn't know him well enough for that just yet…But she felt potential for it, right down to her bones. They had quite a lot in common, so there was no chance that they'd tire of one another's company, but a relationship built on shared interests and lust would fall apart rather quickly if there wasn't much else tying them together.

"Alright," she nodded slowly. "We'll slow things down a bit…Not too much; not now that I've _finally_ got you in my clutches, I intend to enjoy myself as much as possible…" She grinned at the small smile her comment elicited. "But I agree that we should, perhaps, get to know one another a little more intimately before taking such a big leap of faith…" She leant down and placed a tender kiss on his lips. "After all, you might decide that being stuck with an insufferable know-it-all isn't all it's cracked up to be, and by that stage I'd be crushed should you leave."

He rolled his eyes. "Indeed."

They made their way up to the bedroom hand in hand, relieved to find Sophia fast asleep. Neither really felt as though they needed a wailing infant to interrupt their thoughts just then.

**-?-**

Hermione and Severus fell into a comfortable pattern as the next few days passed by. They would rise to the sounds of Sophia's cries of a morning, feed her, bathe her, and dress her together, then eat breakfast downstairs, before showering and preparing themselves for the work ahead of them. The days would then be spent fixing and remodelling the rooms of the manor which needed the least amount of work, all the while discussing various topics in depth, in order to get to know each other on a deeper level. In the evenings, following dinner, they would retire to the study downstairs and play chess, stealing kisses more often than they stole pawns.

Though it had only been a few days, Hermione knew that she was falling head over heels in love with her former Potions Professor. She relished her time spent with him, realising that he now knew her better than any of her friends, perhaps even better than her parents. She felt her most comfortable with him, as she could be herself without having to apologise for not _really_ enjoying Quidditch, or for wanting to read instead of sit around and gossip.

Though she'd been sceptical at first, she was beginning to believe that the Hat _had_ been correct in pairing them together. Perhaps they _were_ meant to be…Though she refused to jinx herself by admitting it. Secretly, though, she thanked the Hat for its decision every day.

On Christmas Eve, during their nightly game of chess, an impatient owl arrived at the window, carrying a package addressed to Hermione. She smiled as she read the attached note, and muttered, "It's about time."

From his seat by the fire, Severus arched an eyebrow. "Indeed?"

Blushing slightly, Hermione shook her head. "It was something I ordered a while back…I was beginning to think that it wouldn't arrive in time…"

"In time for what, exactly?"

Her blush deepened. "Christmas. It's a gift…Your gift, actually. And, no," she added, "You won't get it until the morning."

Severus couldn't help rolling his eyes. "You are terribly Gryffindor at times."

This, of course, only made her grin.

**-?-**

Waking up the next morning provided a break from their usual routine, as neither Hermione, nor Severus, could be bothered waking up any earlier than necessary. It _was_ Christmas, after all. They deserved a small break at the very least. Severus was the first to wake, though he made no attempt to leave the warmth of the bed. He'd become accustomed to waking with Hermione snuggled against his chest, though he still felt a little uneasy at their proximity.

It wasn't as though he regretted allowing her under his skin…No, it was more a moral dilemma. She was still a student at the school. Their relationship -though they hadn't gone past kisses and groping- was highly unethical. And against the rules, according to the school charter, despite Dumbledore's adjustments. Should they be discovered before she held her diploma in her hand, he'd be fired and she would most definitely be expelled. However, when they put The Plan (which was now no longer based on fiction) into action at the Leaving Feast, Dumbledore would cop a lot of criticism and outrage from the community for pushing them into the relationship to begin with, whether Hermione held her diploma or no. Either way, that man would be knocked down a peg or two…

His musings came to a standstill when he felt Hermione shift against him, clearly in the process of waking. Yawning, she stared up at him and blinked blearily, before realising that it was Christmas and grinned wildly. "Merry Christmas, Severus." She said, moving up for a quick kiss.

"Merry Christmas," He nodded, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

She stretched languidly against him, unaware of the effect it had on his nether regions. "Sophia awake?"

The thought of the infant was like water to a flame. It doused his growing arousal quite effectively, which he supposed was a good thing, even though it left him feeling extremely frustrated. He shrugged. "She hasn't made it known as of yet."

Hermione smiled. "Good. We actually get a lie-in, then." She closed her eyes as if to illustrate her point.

Severus rolled his eyes as an owl tapped frantically at the window. "I'll get it, shall I?" he said when the young woman in his bed made no move to let it in. She mumbled incoherently and rolled over. He had his answer.

After opening the window, he took the letter and sent the feathered beast on its way. Deciding to leave the window open lest any other winged pests arrive, he padded back into bed, thrusting the letter at Hermione.

"It's from the school." She informed him, before unfurling the parchment and proceeding to read. Her face paled considerably.

"What's the matter?"

She thrust the scroll at him. "He's _insane_! He might have warned us..." She'd leapt from the bed and was halfway towards Sophia's crib. "Oh, thank Merlin..." She breathed.

Severus scanned the letter and finished with a groan. Apparently, as the entire class had been deemed 'competent' in their abilities to look after infants, the ante was to be upped by aging the infants into toddlers which would take place over Christmas as a sort of 'gift' to liven up the holidays.

"...I've got to transfigure her clothes, her nappies...her _toys_, her cot..." Hermione was fretting. "And we're expected to work on potty training them! Where am I supposed to find the time and patience to do _that_? This is our NEWT year...Babies I could deal with, barely, but I could. Toddlers take up more time and effort..." She was hyperventilating.

Severus sighed. "We will find a way to work around it."

"We?" She echoed. "Severus, no...You could hardly deal with an infant...I won't make you look after a fictional toddler. I wouldn't have even wished such a thing on Voldemort." She shuddered pointedly.

"You are most definitely over-reacting."

She shook her bushy head. "I've babysat toddlers...They are _not _fun or easy." She was sitting on the edge of the bed now, her head in her hands. "This is not fair."

With a rather large amount of self-restraint, Snape abstained from informing her that school was never meant to be fun, easy _or_ fair. Instead he carded his hands through the tangled mess she called her hair and reassured her that he wouldn't allow her grades to be affected by the latest twist. Then he pulled her to her feet and instructed her to get herself ready for the day. After all, it was still Christmas.

**-?-**

The day turned out to be rather pleasant, despite the rough start. They ate breakfast on the patio over looking the snow-covered grounds, before turning inside to exchange gifts.

Severus was pleased to discover that Hermione had bought him a book detailing recent breakthroughs in Muggle science, as well as a large, leather-bound notebook which he was to use however he pleased.

He, in turn, had purchased a new quill and set of all purpose, multi-coloured, magical inks for her, as well as a six month subscription to an academic publication/journal of her choosing.

Albus had sent him his usual gift consisting of lemon drops and neon pink socks. Minerva had sent him a gift certificate to a reliable apothecary, and Matthews had forwarded a copy of the Kama Sutra, complete with animated illustrations. She'd also included a note offering her services should he take a liking to a particular position. Naturally, he'd incinerated the note, but elected to keep the book, in the chance that Hermione might like to experiment, should their relationship turn down that path.

Meanwhile, the Gryffindor had received quite a few gifts herself. Harry and Greg had sent magical lip balm, which would change colour and flavour according to her mood. They'd also given her a gift-certificate to be used in the Hogsmeade bookshop. Draco had forwarded an outdated Muggle Studies text, which he guaranteed she'd find amusing if nothing else. Her parents had sent trinkets and souvenirs from their travels, as well as an assortment of sugar-free Muggle sweets and a locket. She'd been surprised and, at the same time, touched by the final gift: a large hand-knitted jumper from the Weasley matriarch, which she'd put on immediately.

After putting their presents away they opted to do a little more work on the manor -which was beginning to shape up nicely- before a light lunch in the study.

As they were cleaning up their plates, the fireplace lit up, signalling a fire-call. Severus drew his wand before answering.

"Severus, dear, did I startle you?"

"Of course not, Mrs Weasley. Forgive me... Old habits die hard."

The head in the flames nodded. "Understandable." She paused. "And it's Molly to you, dear."

"And how can I help you today," he asked, his tongue tripping over her name. "Molly?"

Hermione stifled a giggle at his expense.

"I was hoping that you and Hermione would be interested in joining the family for Christmas dinner."

Hermione ducked out of the room, wondering how Snape would talk them out of it. She almost collapsed from shock when she heard his silken reply.

"That sounds lovely. What time would you like us to arrive?"

**-?-**

It was precisely 3:56 that afternoon when Sophia changed. Where a tiny baby had slept, sat a child of approximately two to three years of age. Hermione was the first to notice, namely due to the fact that a loud "Mummy!" had caught her attention only a moment after Severus left the room. She spun and raced to the cot, freezing at the sight that she had vaguely anticipated.

The little girl was deceptively adorable. She had dark silky hair, dark eyes, Severus' nose and full lips. Hermione supposed Sophia got those from her.

"Mummy!" The little girl urged again, extending her arms. "Up, _up_!"

Hermione complied, heaving the child up and settling her upon her hip. She patted the nappy-clad bottom and sighed. Her first hurdle. Toddlers, she knew, could be far more stubborn and difficult when it came to nappy changes than tiny little babies. However it had to be done.

"C'mon bubs..." She said softly, gathering supplies as she went. "Let's get you changed and cleaned up."

Dark eyes narrowed as she spread a towel down over the bed. When she moved to lay the child down on top of it, the struggle began. "No!" The little girl cried, thrashing her legs and squirming violently. "No! No! No!"

"Yes." Hermione responded, not caring that it was near pointless to argue with a toddler. "Yes. Yes. _Yes._"

Tears welled in the child's eyes as her nappy was removed, exposing her damp behind to the cold air. Her body's reaction was naturally to wet herself again, but not until a new, clean nappy had been placed underneath her.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Hermione went through the paces again, muttering "Merlin give me strength" under her breath. Once done, she placed Sophia back in her crib, then set about summoning another towel and transfiguring it into a warm winter dress, complete with scarf, gloves and stockings. She also transfigured a pair of tiny court shoes from an old leather belt she'd forgotten to discard during her last cleaning frenzy.

Satisfied with her work, she took the clothes over to the cot and proceeded to dress the toddler.

"There we go." She grinned once the job was done. "Pretty as a picture." And, really, she was. The dress was in Slytherin colours and was a perfect fit. It suited the little girl quite well.

"Up, _up_!" Sophia extended her arms. "Peas?"

It took the Gryffindor a moment to realise that 'peas' meant 'please'. She beamed delightedly as she complied; her little one had _manners_, which meant that some of her rambled teachings to the infant had paid off! No wonder the girl had recognised her; she'd remembered her -albeit short- 'upbringing'... That didn't quite account for the 'Mummy' thing, though. She and Severus had refrained from using any titles. Perhaps the age-advancing spell from the school had also given the children false memories? That would make sense...It wouldn't be terribly difficult to create a set of generic memories and give the same to each 'child', manipulating the identities of the 'parents' by using the original strands of hair...And of course the individual memories and personalities would develop based on the actual amount and types of care they received in the first stage of assessment... It was brilliant, really. She couldn't wait to discuss the workings of it all with Professors Flitwick and McGonagall.

However, she would file those thoughts away for another time, when a fidgety toddler _wasn't _trying to wriggle out of her grasp.

"I'm afraid that we'll be late for dinner if you continue to dawdle," Severus was saying as he entered the room. He froze and blinked, having come face to face with the small child in his partner's arms.

The little face -so much like his own, and yet so different- broke into a large grin. "Daddy!" It squealed, struggling against Hermione's grasp. "_Daddy_!"

"I am most certainly **_not_** _'Daddy'_'." He responded, uttering the title with something akin to distaste. He scowled at Hermione. "Was that your idea?"

Her glower rivalled his own. "Don't be stupid. I'm assuming it's part of the school's spell." She shifted the squirming child to her other hip. "She called me 'Mummy' before I even had a chance to speak."

"Then I apologise." He said, giving in and accepting Sophia into his arms. She seemed to settle immediately, much to Hermione's irritation. "It's not a title I ever envisioned _anyone _bestowing upon me, much less a faux-toddler." Said 'faux-toddler' giggled and tugged on a lock of his hair.

"Tell me about it," the young woman replied, offering him a small smile. "Though I can't say I'm finding it all that displeasing..." This earned her an amused smirk.

"Indeed?"

She blushed and averted her gaze. "Surprisingly..."

"Should I take that to mean you would like children some day?"

Hermione took a fortifying breath. Yes, she would like to have children one day in the _distant _future. Did he? Would he put a stop to their blossoming relationship if that was the case? Merlin, how did one approach such a monumental issue with such casualty? "Er..." she started, momentarily speechless. But then she took in the ease with which he held their faux-daughter and decided that he mightn't be as opposed to children as she'd first assumed. "One day, yes." She was emboldened by his nod of understanding. "There's a fair bit I'd like to do, that I'd like to experience first... But, yes, I'd like children one day."

"I must admit, I've never considered them. In fact, I'd never even thought about being in a long-term relationship."

"Oh."

Seeing her face fall, Severus felt the need to better explain himself. "As a spy, one tends to give up hope of surviving a major war. Too high a chance of being caught. Thus, there was no reason to daydream about things that I'd probably never live to experience."

Hermione nodded, and touched his cheek tenderly. "And now?"

"I wouldn't be averse to starting a family," he informed her softly. "If that is indeed what you are asking."

She smiled, finding that she could no longer trust her voice. Then she glanced at the clock on the wall, and gasped. "Oh, Merlin, we're running late..."

**-?-**

They stepped through the fireplace at The Burrow precisely one minute behind schedule. Molly, of course, didn't even notice. Naturally, Severus was mortified for their social faux-pas and apologised profusely.

"Nonsense, Severus. You're right on time. One minute either way doesn't make a lick of difference." The Weasley matriarch informed him with a wave of her hand. She then turned to the little girl clutching the Potions Master's hand. "And you must be Sophia." She beamed. The toddler nodded, and eyed the woman wearily, shifting closer to her father. Not put off in the slightest, Molly continued to talk to her, "My name is Molly. I'm friends with your Mummy and Daddy. Would you like to go play in the snow with some other children?"

The little girl looked up for her parents' approval. They nodded, and Hermione cast a warming charm over her clothes.

Molly took her hand and the group made their way into the next room, while the red-headed woman informed Hermione that Harry and "that nice Goyle boy" were already there.

"And what adorable children they're going to have, if little Matt is any indication..."

Hermione chuckled. "I doubt they're planning on having any for a few years..._Especially_ after this exercise..."

"You have no idea," Harry agreed as he entered the room from the adjacent doorway, having caught the tail-end of the discussion. He moved forward and pulled his best friend into a deep hug. "Missed you, 'Mione." He turned his attention towards the Potions Master and extended his hand. "Merry Christmas, Professor."

Molly chose this moment to leave the group to their own devices and led Sophia out into the yard to join the other kids, who were making snowmen.

Inside, Severus nodded stiffly and shook the boy's hand. He was determined to be civil towards the brat, for Hermione's sake. "And the same to you, Pot-" Hermione nudged him. "-Harry."

His efforts were rewarded by a bright smile from the young woman at his side. The civil discussion that ensued was interrupted, though, when Sophia came running up to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. She burrowed into his robes, howling, clinging onto his legs for dear life. Flabbergasted, he looked to Hermione. "What in Merlin's name...?"

The young woman knelt down and pried her 'daughter' away from her partner's leg, pulling her into a maternal hug. "Shh..." She tried, smoothing down soft black hair. "What's wrong, bubs? Tell Mummy."

Severus watched the exchange with interest, suddenly realising that he hadn't been entirely honest when he'd said that he wasn't averse to having children...In fact, he decided, he _did _want them. He wanted to have children with _her_ in particularHe couldn't help but acknowledge the pang of longing that he felt as he watched her cradling the little girl against her chest. One day they might just share _real _moments like these. _Real _moments of normality. But that, of course, was entirely her decision.

His musings ceased as the Potter/Goyle child raced into the room, followed by his other 'father', who nodded by way of greeting. Noticing that the little boy had also been crying, Severus arched an eyebrow in his Slytherin's direction. "What happened?"

Gregory frowned. "An altercation-"

_"Really?"_ The older man cut in, his tone one of mock-surprise. "A Snape and a Potter fighting...You _don't_ say?"

"No, actually." Goyle replied smoothly. "Weasley's kid was picking on little Soph, here. Matty, ever the _hero_," he shot his boyfriend a look that implied it _had _to be the Gryffindor's influence, "stood up for her. Got them both a bit roughed up."

'Matty', meanwhile, had moved to Hermione's side and was awkwardly patting Sophia's back, babbling muddled-up platitudes and offering his own brand of child-like support.

When Sophia pulled away from her mother, she accepted a hug from the taller child, as well as a sloppy kiss on the cheek that he said would "make it better".

Severus blinked. _His _faux-child was in the arms of Potter's! There was something inherently _wrong _with that.

"I think it's adorable." Hermione informed him, having seen the look on his face. "Besides," she shrugged, "They're not real..."

"That doesn't make the thought of it any less horrifying." He responded tartly.

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "Well, either way, I need to go talk to Ron about this." She gestured towards the children who now appeared to be playing some sort of dancing game. "Bullying should not be fostered or tolerated, despite family differences or whether the kids really exist."

Harry nodded, dragging his attention away from the playing children. He couldn't help but agree with the Potions Master; Potters and Snapes should not cuddle and kiss! It was just plain _wrong_! But Hermione had still made a valid point; Ron needed to be spoken with. "I'll come with you..."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" The other Gryffindor replied. "Won't he feel a little outnumbered?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived frowned. " 'Mione, the three of us used to be inseparable...We need to talk about this together."

Her shoulders slumped slightly in defeat and she nodded. "Fine. Let's get this over and done with, then."

**-?-**

When they finally found Ron in the yard, they were surprised to find him admonishing his 'son' all on his own.

"...Now I want you to march right on up there and say sorry for what you've done."

The little red-head scuffed a foot along the ground and nodded. Ron softened.

"Mr Potter and Miss Granger used to be my best friends. And even though we're not anymore, you shouldn't let that make it harder for you to make friends with their kids."

The little boy looked somewhat confused, but nodded anyway. His Daddy wasn't yelling, so he was happy to play along.

Ron smiled. "Off you go, then... Go find the others, say sorry and play nice."

The child didn't need to be told twice. He scampered off immediately to find the other little boy and the girl with the funny nose, leaving his Daddy alone by the big tree.

When the child was out of sight, Harry and Hermione made their way towards the young man that had once completed their trio. After listening to him, they had realised that reconciliation was still possible, and they were determined to try.

"Hey," Hermione said softly as they approached.

He looked up and nodded. "S'pose you're here to complain about the rug rat's behaviour." He sighed. "Go on, then. Let's have it."

Hermione shook her head. "No...We come in peace." The Muggle reference was lost on him, so she forged on. "We, er, thought that, this being Christmas and all, we should talk... See if we can't work out our differences a bit..."

Ron looked between them, taking in their hopeful expressions, and frowned. "I've been such a fool." He finally said, and that was all it took for the other two to crumble.

They spoke at once, hurried and emotional, repeating themselves as they stumbled over apologies and half-formed declarations of brotherly/sisterly love.

"We've all been a bit foolish-"

"It's been a stressful time for everyone-"

"Missed you so much-"

"Let's never fight again!"

The three froze at Hermione's girlish impromptu outburst, before breaking into light-hearted laughter.

"You're asking a bit much." Harry informed her.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, swinging his arm over his best mate's shoulder easily. "We manage to do this every year, in one way or another."

She sighed melodramatically. "What am I going to do with you, then?"

The boys looked at each other then shrugged.

"Face it, 'Mione," The red-head began, "You're stuck with us."

They laughed again and made their way back up to the house.

Mrs Weasley beamed at them when she noticed that they were arm-in-arm. "We were about to send a search party," she joked, sending a steaming pot to the table. "Thought we'd lost you for good when you didn't come running at the mention of food."

"Sorry, Mum." Ron apologised, tugging off his scarf. "Didn't hear you call."

"No harm done, dear." She assured him, "Go sit down…This is the last of the plates…" She sent a large pan full of potatoes to the table.

The reunited trio grinned and complied. They were soon joined by Gregory and Severus, as well as an unusually small number of Weasleys. When Hermione enquired as to the whereabouts of the two eldest Weasley boys, Arthur informed her that there'd been a dragon-related emergency and Charlie hadn't been able to make it, while Bill had opted to spend Christmas with Fleur and her family.

"But don't you worry your pretty little head," Fred (or was it George in Fred's Weasley jumper?) began, only to be interrupted by his twin.

"-You've got us to make up for it."

They nodded in unison, wearing identical troublesome smirks.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, I was afraid of that." She teased.

"So," Fred (she was going to call him Fred, even if she wasn't quite certain if it really was him) began, after a comfortable silence had spanned a little too long for his liking. "How many people d'you reckon'll come back to school knocked up, then?"

His mother hit him upside the head.

"I'm serious!" He protested, rubbing the now sore spot. "_You_ did!"

Molly's cheeks coloured, but she managed an angry glower nonetheless. "You're forgetting the fact that your father and I were married…"

The argument seemed to stretch on for hours, much to the amusement of the four non-Weasleys seated across from the action. Hermione's attention wavered, though, when she noticed the little girl tugging at Severus' sleeve. She watched as the usually stoic man lifted the toddler and settled her in his lap, feeding her from his plate as he carried on a conversation with Arthur and Gregory, and she couldn't help but think that he would be a wonderful father to her children.

And then she knew her mind had been made up. There was no one else in the world for her. It was him. It would _always_ be him. The Hat –which she would now call her hero for the rest of time- had definitely been right; they _were_ a perfect match. And if she'd actually believed in 'soul mates' and all that rot, she would certainly have agreed that Severus Snape was hers.

**-?-**

"That went rather well," Severus said as they stepped through the fireplace at the Manor. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione, who was still contemplating over her earlier revelation, barely registered that he was speaking. "Hmm?"

He was concerned now. She _always_ paid attention when others spoke. Gently shifting the sleeping child in his arms to rest on his hip, he touched her shoulder gently, forcing her to look up at him. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" She echoed. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just…thinking."

"Indeed?"

She flashed him a smile. "I promise. Tonight was a bit full-on."

"Quite. Though I am…glad… that you and Potter were able to sort out that business with Weasley…"

"Thank you." She responded softly. "That means a lot to me."

He nodded as she fell silent once more, wondering exactly what it was that was occupying her thoughts.

They made their way up the stairs in companionable silence and put Sophia to bed in the next room, making sure to erect a monitoring charm should she wake disoriented and panic. Once in their own room, Hermione disappeared into the ensuite to prepare herself for bed. While she did so, Severus dressed in his pyjamas and slipped under the covers of the bed. He was glad to have done so when Hermione finally emerged in a negligee that left very little to the imagination. He swallowed audibly.

Hermione sat on top of the covers and struck a pose. "Do you like it?"

He swallowed again. "It's somewhat…"

"Sexy?" She asked.

"Revealing." He finished, shifting uncomfortably under the heavy blanket.

Her face fell. "Oh…You don't like it…"

"That's most certainly not the problem."

Hermione frowned. This effort to seduce him wasn't going to plan. "Then what is?" She asked, feeling vulnerable and foolish.

"It's rather the opposite…"

Now on the verge of tears, she blinked in surprise. "What?"

Severus smothered a sigh. Did he have to spell _everything_ out to this woman? Then he realised that it was probably best if he _showed _her. "Come here." He extended his arm pulled her flush against him, certain that she could feel his arousal through the thick fabric. "_This _is what you do to me, you silly woman." He growled into her ear. "How do you expect me to keep my hands to myself if you walk around here with barely anything on?"

She blushed and toyed with the top edge of the blanket that separated them. "Actually, I was hoping that you _wouldn't_…" She felt his arms stiffen around her, and hoped that it was a good sign. "You see, I realised tonight that I can't imagine myself with anyone else…You're the one for me, Severus…I…I've fallen head over heels in love with you. I don't know when it happened, nor how..." She kissed his lips gently, though in a way that promised so much more. "I don't want to wait any longer, Severus."

Unable to think of an appropriate verbal response, Severus pressed his lips to hers and begged entrance with his tongue. She moaned appreciatively and he took that as an invitation to further his ministrations. Continuing the kiss, he moved one hand up to fondle her breast. She moaned again, and opened her eyes, which were, by this stage, dilated with lust.

"Gods, Severus…" She whispered against his lips.

He pulled back, his lark eyes searching hers for any sign of regret. "Are you certain this is what you want?" He asked. "There'll be no changing your mind once it's done…"

She smiled and eased herself under the blanket, so that only their clothes separated them. "I'm more than sure, Severus. I want this. I want _you_."

He smiled. "Good."

As he removed their clothing with a muttered spell and pressed their bodies together in a possessive kiss, Hermione couldn't help but think that the Sorting Hat was definitely her hero; after all, she wouldn't be in this position –with the one who was literally the man of her dreams- if not for it. Then Severus' hands began exploring her body and she was no longer capable of forming any coherent thought.

* * *

A/N- Well, I considered taking this further, but I might leave it to your imaginations for now. ((Smirk!)) Please leave a review whether you hated it or loved it, or even if you felt it could have been better. Just tell me _why!_ I love specifics, they're a big part of my efforts to continually improve with each story I write. 


	7. Unlovable

**07 Unlovable **

A/N- I apologise for not properly expressing myself at the end of the last chapter. I didn't mean for it to sound as though I was going to leave the story there, just that final scene. I was so flattered, though, by the number of people begging me to continue. So, for all those who reviewed last time, and you know who you are, this one's for you. And, er, don't be too cranky with me for...well...what I've done here at the beginning, will you? ((Wicked Grin))

Oh, and to a small portion of the American audience, following an anonymous review posted for _Escapology_, I really have to emphasise the fact that I spell the British way wherever possible. Hence 'realisation' was spelt correctly…WITHOUT the BLOODY 'Z'. If I were writing fanfic for Buffy or Angel (as I was once known to do), I'd force myself to conform to the American way of spelling things (where, yes, the 'z' features a fair bit), but, as Harry Potter is a British series, set in the UK (for the majority of the time), I will continue to use the rules of traditional ENGLISH spelling.

Sorry for the rant, guys, I just hate being told that I –a teacher of English- can't spell properly. I was very flattered by the rest of that particular review; I'd just like to point out that there are other ways of spelling words in other countries; particularly those in which the stories are set.

* * *

"Daddy!" Sophia's panicked voice, amplified by the monitoring charm, echoed through their room. "_Daddy!_" 

Hermione's eyes sprang open and she groaned. "The world is against me."

From his position between her thighs, Severus lifted his head. "You've waited this long, I'm certain you'll survive a few minutes more."

"No," she replied petulantly, "I won't."

He rolled his eyes and made his way off the bed as the sobs from the charm grew in volume. "I'll return as soon as possible."

Hermione sighed and flopped back against her pillows. This was just her luck. She _finally _had him right where she wanted him and then _BAM, _a **_fake_ **_toddler_ ruins the moment! It was the sort of thing that could only happen to her. (_Or,_ she mused, _possibly_ _the_ _entire_ _seventh_ _year_ _class_ _at_ _Hogwarts._)

In a vain attempt to cheer herself up, she supposed she should be pleased that Severus was no longer going to restrain himself...But, Merlin, she needed release _now! _The brat hadn't even given her enough time for proper foreplay!

Oh, how she _loathed_ the Headmaster for his decision to age the infants! His timing was as bad as Sophia's was now! _Worse_, even! But it couldn't be changed. No, now she would just have to be patient.

She sighed.

_Come **on**, Severus! _She glared at the door. Nothing. She sighed again.

Hopefully he wouldn't be too much longer.

**-?-**

Severus slipped back under the covers with a sigh. Hermione was fast asleep. Unfortunately, he couldn't claim to be responsible for her exhaustion. The Sandman had claimed her long before he'd re-entered the bedroom. And all because the not-entirely-real little girl in the next room had been too afraid to let him go until after she'd fallen asleep again (something she'd _also_ refused to do).

He could only hope that Hermione would forgive him and offer him a chance -or three- to redeem himself.

**-?-**

When the Gryffindor woke the next morning, she yawned and snuggled against the warm body accompanying her in bed, before remembering that she'd succumbed to sleep _alone_.

"When did you get in?" She asked coldly, pulling away from his warmth.

"Good morning to you, too." Severus replied sarcastically, regretting the action almost immediately when she tossed the blankets off and stomped into the bathroom, mumbling about 'inconsiderate men'. He sighed; they'd officially been together for less than twelve hours and _already_ they were arguing. "Hermione," he eventually tried, dragging himself from the bed and knocking cautiously on the en suite door. "Hermione," he repeated, "I apologise for not returning as soon as I'd hoped last night." Silence. "She wouldn't allow me to leave." He winced at his own admission. A faux three year-old had been holding him back? He'd become such a ponce! "Hermione?"

She sat on the floor, her back to the other side of the door, tears of frustration marring her cheeks. Thankfully she'd had the sense to erect a silencing charm when she'd entered, as he would have most likely stormed the door down at the first sign of her emotional distress. Emotional distress which she knew was silly and uncalled for; hence the silencing charm. It would be humiliating for him to see her like this. Especially when she couldn't explain _why _she was so upset.

She rarely ever let her emotions gain control, aside from during the span of time when she'd been under the influence of the faux-pregnancy charm, or when her menstrual cycle got the better of her...

_Merlin,_ _no!_

Suddenly she _knew _what was wrong, and she cursed her body. Within a few days her period would begin and the rest of the holiday would be utterly ruined.

If she and Severus were to consummate their relationship, she deduced that they would have to do so by the close of the next day, as she was certain her period would begin the following morning.

She sighed. This wasn't exactly a concept she could envision discussing with him.

That wasn't to say she was ashamed of her body; she'd decided years earlier that people who couldn't discuss the topics associated with sex and so forth shouldn't be participating in carnal activities, and it would be hypocritical if she were embarrassed about it all. However, she'd only _just_ promised herself to him. How sadistic would she seem when she put an expiry date on the offer?

But it really couldn't be helped, she supposed. Not unless the Wizarding world had means for a witch to conveniently 'skip' a period. She knew Muggle women could occasionally do so with The Pill, but she'd never really wondered whether there was a magical alternative. Yes, she was rather up-to-date with her studies, and she knew a number of contraceptive charms -though she had relied on the potion when she'd been with Jackson for the obvious reason that he'd been Muggle and waving a wand before penetration might have put him off somewhat- but she'd never had _cause_ to ponder _this_.

With the logical side of her brain finally regaining control, the Gryffindor felt herself calming down and rubbed her eyes in a vain attempt to hide the evidence of her tears.

Perhaps there was a charm to postpone the body's process? Or a potion, even? St Mungo's used Stasis Charms and so forth on tumours; would it be so different to do the same on one's menstrual cycle? There _had _to be a way to research this.

Then a thought struck her:

Severus _did_ have an extensive library (which had, thankfully, been the only room warded against dilapidation)...She'd be _certain_ to find _something _of use...

But was she really willing to tamper with the laws of nature for a few extra rolls in the hay?

"Hermione," Severus' voice -now tinged with self-righteous anger- interrupted her thoughts. "So help me, Girl, if you don't respond within the next thirty seconds, I _will _break this door down..."

She sighed and disarmed her silencing charm. "I'm fine, Severus. I just needed a little time to calm down." She hoped he could hear the attempted smile in her voice as she added, "'You know what my temper's like."

On the other side of the door, the Slytherin frowned; she'd never attempted to hide her anger before. In fact, she was usually quite content to rant and rave at any apparent injustices. However, he forced himself to set the issue aside for the time being. There would be no use questioning her about it with a heavy slab of wood separating them.

"Typical Gryffindor," he eventually teased by way of reply. "You wouldn't do your House justice if you weren't so hot-headed and impulsive."

Hermione couldn't help but grin at the comment. Where (once upon time) she would have taken offence, she now realised that it was his twisted brand of humour to taunt others, and that, really, there was no malice intended.

"At least it's a step up from being selfish and cowardly." She informed him as she opened the door, barely refraining from adding the phrase 'So there' and poking out her tongue.

Though her eyes sparkled with mirth, Severus could still see that she'd been crying. He wondered why, but dared not ask just yet. It was better to see her smiling and joining him in banter. They _would_ discuss it in good time, though. He wasn't one to let such things go completely.

"Ah, but the selfish and cowardly get so much more out of the world."

"Physically, perhaps." She agreed, inclining her head. "But you wouldn't know the satisfaction of an impulsive act gone right."

"Nor would I know the humiliation of an impulsive act gone wrong."

_Touché_. Hermione thought. Shrugging, she brushed past him. "If you can't live in the moment," she told him over her shoulder, "there's not much point in living at all."

"To a Gryffindor that may be true," the Potions Master countered, following her as she bustled about the room, "However, we Slytherins believe in savouring each second and utilising every moment for...maximum enjoyment."

The innuendo only served to infuriate the young woman, and she spun around angrily, all traces of her previous amusement gone. "Maximum enjoyment, you say?"

Realising he'd gone wrong -though not entirely sure _how_- Severus reached out an arm to placate her. She slapped it away and continued on her rant.

"Then _why_, **_Professor_**, did you disappear last night? Didn't I present the best option for your _enjoyment_?" With a violent swipe of her wand she was dressed for the day, but was too cranky to admire her own handiwork. "If you hadn't really wanted me, you might have been man enough to tell me!"

_Dear Merlin, was that really what she believed? Even now, after their discussion the previous night? _

"Hermione, we've discussed this..."

"And I find it hard to believe that you, of all people, couldn't tell an _imaginary toddler _that her behaviour was in appropriate and that you had your own bed to go to."

He blinked. "I was actually referring to this notion that you have of me not wanting you, which, I assure you, is completely unfounded."

"Oh." She was momentarily taken by surprise, before finding her voice once more. "Then why didn't you come back?"

She suddenly looked so vulnerable and he sighed, drawing her into his arms. "It's rather difficult to deny her." He admitted, adding, "Even though she's not entirely real."

"Because she looks real?"

"Because she looks like you."

His words were spoken so quietly that she almost missed them. Pulling away, she looked up at him questioningly. "Me?" She echoed.

"You." He nodded.

The Gryffindor didn't know how to respond. As far as she could see, little Sophia was the spitting image of her 'father'.

As if he had read her mind, Severus extrapolated. "She has your eyes, though my hue, and your lips. And, despite the high cheekbones, her pout and myriad of other facial expressions are very much 'inherited' from you."

"I don't see it."

The corners of his lips quirked slightly. "Of course not. You've been fixated on my traits instead." She could see amusement in his eyes as he added, "Most likely interested in the merits of my breeding."

Despite herself, she felt her cheeks burn. "Merlin, Severus, you make it sound as though I'm looking for a dog!"

The sound of little feet running towards them interrupted Snape's response, and he turned to find an out of breath -but nonetheless petulant- toddler. She planted her hands on her hips and glowered up at him.

"You said you was gonna stay." She accused, her lower lip trembling.

Severus pointedly arched an eyebrow at Hermione -a look that said 'she certainly didn't get that from _me_'- before crouching down to the toddler's level. "Until you went to sleep." The reminder was stern, but gentle. "That was the deal."

She shook her bushy head. "No. Wasn'."

"Yes, it was." His tone was somewhat more forceful.

The little girl's expression darkened. "Not!" She cried, stamping her foot. "Not! Not! NOT!"

Severus was losing patience rapidly. "Sophia!" he snapped. "Stop it at once. You are no longer a baby and shouldn't behave as such."

"Daddy-" She whined plaintively.

"And I do not take kindly to being called a liar."

That was all she could take. "Sorry Daddy," she hiccoughed between sobs, pronouncing her 'R's as 'W's.

Hermione thought it was rather adorable, even with the snot dribbling down her chin. However, she kept out of the matter, preferring to see how Severus handled it.

He sighed and summoned a handkerchief, then, gently wiping the toddler's face, proceeded to reassure her that he didn't hate her. "...But you're a big girl now, Sophia, and mustn't yell and throw a tantrum to get your way-"

"You still loves me?" She asked, this time it was the 'L's warping into a 'W' sound.

Hermione damn near had a heart-attack when Severus nodded and reassured her tenderly.

_Who was this man and what had he done with the **real **Severus Snape? _

Yes, Severus had always been a good person _somewhere_ deep down inside, but this..._This_ was just _not right. _

He glanced up at her and furrowed his brow at the look on her face. "Dare I ask?"

She shook her head. "I'm wondering who you are and what you've done with Severus Snape."

He rolled his eyes. "You don't believe I have the capacity to love?"

"Don't be stupid," she sighed, waving his comment away, "I just find it difficult to accept that you can act like that with an imaginary child."

"Oh?" He couldn't help being mildly affronted.

"It's just..._I _feel silly doing it..._How _is it that _you _do it so easily?"

Severus took a moment to ponder over the question. "After a number of years in-" he took a side-long glance at the little girl clutching his neck, and forced himself to modify his response should she mimic him back at the school, "-a megalomaniac's presence, I feel I have honed my, shall we say, theatrical skills to a relatively impressive degree."

"Ah." Now Hermione was forced to wonder whether he'd been genuine with _her_, or whether she'd really just been another instrument in his games with the Headmaster. After all, it really did seem strange that someone like him would fancy a know-it all like her. And here he was, telling her that he was quite adept at fooling people! Plastering a smile upon her face, she nodded. "I see." She forced a nonchalant shrug. "Anyhow, I was wondering whether you'd mind looking after her for a few hours. I've still got a few feet to write for Herbology, and was hoping to duck into your library…"

The Slytherin cocked his head to the side; she was lying to him. He knew for a fact that every single one of her holiday essays had been completed before they'd left Hogwarts. He wouldn't have allowed her to join him in the task of remodelling if they hadn't been.

So the question arose: _why_ was she lying? What did she _really_ hope to achieve in that library of his? He knew that she wasn't going to be able to resist the call of the books forever –in fact he was rather surprised that she'd lasted this long- but she was telling untruths about her intentions, which worried him. Had she thought to tell him that she simply wanted to poke around in his books he wouldn't have been suspicious at all.

_What is she trying to hide?_

Eyeing her sceptically, he nodded. "Of course." He eventually replied smoothly. "I'll collect you for lunch, shall I?"

She released the breath that she'd been holding and smiled weakly in return. "Thank you, Severus."

He pressed his lips to her forehead, then watched her leave the room…_without_ her Herbology notes.

**-?-**

Hermione leafed through the book in her lap, barely taking in the words. Her mind was focussed, instead, on Snape's intentions.

Was she merely a pawn to him? One with benefits?

After all the time spent in his company, a little voice in her head told her that she was being extremely silly jumping to conclusions. Severus genuinely seemed to care for her; his vaguely vulnerable reaction to Jackson's presence had proven as much.

_Then why did he avoid me last night?_ She mused.

The voice of reason stamped its foot. He'd _explained_ that! And, again, his admission that Sophia reminded him of her enough to manipulate him against his will could only demonstrate just how much he really felt for her. Particularly considering the way he'd approached the assignment before they'd attempted to know each other properly…

With a sigh, the Gryffindor slammed the book in her hands shut.

She was getting nowhere.

In fact, she couldn't even decide whether it was important to her that she research a means to postpone or skip her period anyway.

Which, naturally, took her back to pondering Severus' intentions once more.

It was frustrating and upsetting, and really quite fruitless, she knew.

And as much as she knew she loved him, could she even consider taking such a large step when she wasn't even certain that he loved her in return?

"This is ridiculous." She grumbled, massaging her temples.

She'd been so _certain_ the previous night. So willing to promise herself to him for an indeterminate future…

And now? Now she was afraid that she'd opened herself up to him for nothing.

Should she be glad, then, that they hadn't yet consummated their relationship?

The voice of reason and logic flared up again. Of _course_ not! She was being stupid. He loved her; couldn't she see it? Why was she suddenly so insecure? She was a head-strong, intelligent witch. And he'd all-but-hit her over the head with the way he'd felt about her. And _still_ she questioned it.

Perhaps she needed a little more sleep. A bit of a rest to clear her head. To make her see sense.

_Yes_, she decided, yawning. _That sounded like a plan_.

**-?-**

Severus tentatively opened the door to the library, only to find the Gryffindor fast asleep in his favourite armchair, a closed book nestled carefully in her embrace.

He smirked, imagining the myriad of lewd comments her friends would have made, had they spied her in the same position.

"Daddy?" Sophia tugged at his arm. "Mummy sleeping?" Again, the 'L' sound was mispronounced.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes," he told her, "But it's lunch time, so you'd best wake her."

He wasn't foolish enough to do it himself.

The little girl beamed up at him, "Okay!"

As he watched her boldly race forward, he decided that, for all her manipulation tactics, the girl was still quite Gryffindorish.

"Mummy…" Sophia tugged at Hermione's hand. "Get up…lunch time."

For all intents and purposes, all Hermione caught as her brain kick-started, was 'wunch', which she was relatively certain was _not_ a word. "Wunch?" she echoed lazily.

From his position at the doorway, Severus smirked. "I believe she meant 'lunch'." He advised her. "I do recall informing you that I'd collect you when it was time to eat."

"Oh, is it midday already?" The young woman stretched and glanced at her watch, "Wow…I slept longer than I'd planned to…"

Severus gave her a fond smile. "Yesterday was somewhat draining," he said, "And you seem to have taxed yourself with a lot of reading…" He gestured towards the pile of books next to the chair.

She blushed. "Sorry…I'll put them all back just as I found them."

"There's no need," he replied, "Are you done with them?"

Nodding, Hermione watched as he muttered a charm and the books returned to their rightful positions on the shelves. "Well," she said, impressed. "That was handy."

"Quite." Severus made a mental note to return to those books when next he had the chance.

"Lunch?" the little girl at his side asked, tugging at his sleeve.

Hermione made her way towards them, "Lunch." she agreed.

**-?-**

Following the light meal, Severus excused himself on the premise of collecting some research notes for an ongoing Potions Project. Hermione, distracted by Sophia's antics, nodded and allowed him leave without any of her usual onslaught of questions. He was glad for this, though knew he could have provided appropriate answers if required. After all, his years of spying had relied upon his ability to manipulate the truth.

But that was neither here nor there, now. He'd survived the war and had, surprisingly, found someone that wasn't repulsed by him. What had surprised him even more, however, were his own emotions. He had never loved easily; not even his own mother had received the fullest extent of his affection. Then _she _came along with her amusingly bushy hair and her enquiring hazel eyes and -for some unfathomable reason- he'd gone completely loopy.

_Loopy?_

Dear Merlin, even his internal monologue had gone soft!

Arriving in the library, he waved his wand and muttered the counter-charm for the one he'd performed earlier. The books flew back to their previous positions on the table and floor, open at the pages Hermione had left them. He felt vaguely guilty for invading her privacy, but reasoned that it was _his _library and that she had broken _his _trust by lying to him in the first place.

"Now, Miss Granger," he muttered to himself, "What are you scheming, hmm?"

Severus picked up the top book, _Medicinal Potions and Charms _by Louis Tiddlewick, and frowned. "Stasis charms?" he asked aloud, "Whatever for?"

He reached for the next book, _What's That Ailment:1001 Simple Solutions for Everyday Medical Queries _by Brunhilda Mugglewort, and damn near had a heart attack. "_Queries of a **Sexual **Nature: Name that **Rash**?"_

Dear Merlin, he wasn't certain he wanted to know any more...but still he forged on.

Jeremy Merton's _Heal Thyself_ did little to alleviate his concern, and he most certainly didn't need to know why Martin Jesson's _Magical Guide to the Male Anatomy _had been open to the charms that dealt with erectile dysfunction...

"Daddy!" Sophia raced towards him as he was reaching for the next tome, causing him to drop the heavy text, narrowly missing his toes.

"Damn it!" he cursed vehemently, stooping to retrieve the text, stopping the toddler in her tracks.

Her lower lip started to quiver and her eyes filled with tears. "Mummy!" she wailed. Hermione came running.

"What?" she panted, panicking over any number of possible problems that might result in her failure of the class. "What's happened?"

Sophia ran into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. She looked to Severus for an explanation.

"She startled me," he admitted, "and I'm afraid I lost my temper-"

"You yelled at her?" she pulled the girl closer protectively.

"No," his tone was deceptively calm, "I cursed at my own clumsiness and it quite clearly upset her."

"And you've made no attempt to apologise?" She gave him little time to respond before sarcastically huffing, "What a surprise!"

"Now see here, Girl. I didn't even have the chance before you came barrelling in, wand at the ready."

She moved her month to continue the argument but froze when she recognised the book in his hands. It might have easily been put down to coincidence, had she not glanced at the other titles littering the area. Cheeks burning, she demanded an explanation. "Y-you're _spying _on me!" she cried, "_Why? _Why would you do something so vile?"

"I was curious as to why you would lie to me..." The Potions Master replied simply. "After professing your undying affections, as well. And now I find that you have done nothing _but_ lie to me." He narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice to little above a hiss, "Was it fun to play with me, Granger? Did you enjoy seeing me vulnerable?"

Hermione stared back, incensed. How _dare _he accuse her of the things _he _was guilty of? "I have _never_ lied to you." She fought the waver in her voice. "Perhaps you're misplacing your own guilt. You all-but-admitted _your_ game with me this morning. Do you remember, Severus?" Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them spill. "You're such a good actor! It's easy for you to convince others of your adoration. Even when it's not there." Despite herself, she was crying. "Did you enjoy playing with _me_, Professor?" she spat, throwing his own words back at him. "Do you like to see _me_ vulnerable?"

He stared, dumbfounded, as she turned and fled, Sophia cradled in her arms.

_What, in Merlin's name, had just happened? _

**-?-**

"Mummy, why you sad?"

Hermione looked down into imploring dark eyes. "Because I'm being silly."

"Why?"

_How does one explain separation to a fictional toddler without breaking her heart? _Hermione sighed.

"Mummy and Daddy had a fight…"

"Go kiss 'n make better."

_If only it were that simple…_

"Sweetheart, perhaps you should go play with your toys."

_Such a cop out_.

Sophia narrowed her eyes. "Don' wanna."

The Gryffindor was too emotionally exhausted to argue and flopped down on the bed. "Fine."

"Sophia," Severus' voice came from the doorway, firm but far from cruel, "Go do as your mother says, please."

The little girl pouted, but made her way towards the corner of the room that held her play things. Hopefully her Mummy and Daddy would cuddle and be happy again.

Hermione rolled to her side, avoiding his gaze. "Come to gloat?" She murmured.

She felt the bed sag with his weight. "Hermione," he sighed, touching her shoulder gently, "I don't quite understand what's happened today, though you must know; it's never been my intention to hurt you."

Fighting tears, she sniffled, still not turning to face him. "How do I know I can believe you?"

"There are many ways I could have chosen to hurt and humiliate you," he replied, honestly. "None of which would have involved humiliating myself or making myself vulnerable in the process."

_Well_, she considered, _that makes sense…_

Rolling over, she blinked up at him. "I…" She sighed. "I'm sorry."

Severus nodded. "Apology accepted."

An awkward silence fell between them, then Hermione spoke; "Those books…Merlin knows what you must think…I…I've been researching ways to, er, to postpone my, er, my monthly visitor."

_Monthly visitor?_ _How juvenile!_ She cringed.

He blinked once. Then twice. Then laughed; a rich warm sound that lit up the room.

She was far from impressed. Folding her arms over her chest, she frowned petulantly. "It's hardly a laughing matter," she blushed.

He attempted to sober himself up somewhat. "Merlin, Hermione…you can't begin to comprehend just how relieved I am…" He sighed and kissed her forehead. "I was beginning to suspect a large number of preposterous things…"

She giggled, remembering some of the titles she'd read. "I'm sorry. I know I should have just _asked_, but I was still so inexplicably angry with you…"

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Foolish Gryffindor."

"Insufferable Slytherin."

**-?-**

They put Sophia to bed together that night, leaving her with a magical nightlight and an assortment of fluffy toys that were guaranteed to ward off nightmares (Hermione had cast the specific charms herself). There was absolutely no chance that she'd wake up in a similar state to the previous night.

The two adults closed the door to her room and wasted no time reacquainting themselves with the feel of the other's body. Hermione kissed Severus with a passion he'd never imagined possible, and he returned the embrace with equal fervour. Her hands slid beneath his shirt and his mimicked her actions upon her own body. She moaned appreciatively as his thumb brushed across her nipple.

"Merlin, Severus, we won't make it back to bed at this rate…" She breathed, pulling away.

He responded by grinding his aching erection against her. "The problem being?"

"I want you to make love to me, Severus…" She moaned again as he began to suckle her neck, guiding her towards their room. "You can fuck me with wild abandon afterwards."

Her unexpected obscenity took him by surprise and almost caused him to lose control right then and there. "Merlin, woman," he hissed, lifting her up so that her legs wrapped around his abdomen, "You've no idea what you do to me…"

She grinned wickedly and wriggled against him, positioning him at her entrance, separated only by their clothing. "I think I have a fair idea…"

He groaned and took her to their room as quickly as he could, laying her on the bed and following suit mere moments later.

They undressed each other with haste, both silently agreeing that there'd been enough subtle foreplay between them this night.

He hesitated momentarily, perched between her thighs, and she demanded that he take her. Of course it was what she wanted! She was more than certain!

He didn't need to be told twice.

Sheathed inside her, he lost himself to a myriad of sensations. She was so utterly perfect, writhing beneath him, murmuring his name. He bathed in the warmth of her, memorising every detail of this event.

Hermione bucked her hips, subtly demanding that he speed up. His languor was driving her crazy with the need for release. But he refused to be rushed. Dipping his head, he captured her lips in a kiss that almost sent her over the edge on its own.

"Patience, Love." He muttered, pulling out then sliding back in. "Let me love you."

She mumbled incoherently.

He grinned and nibbled her earlobe. "The wanton fucking comes later."

As predicted, that was all it took to send her over the edge. She cried out and he felt her walls clamp down around him.

Satisfied with the results, Severus repeated the procedure, slowly picking up pace.

She'd come another two times that evening before he succumbed to his own need.

Basking in the afterglow, the lovers snuggled against one another, spent and sated.

"I love you, Severus." Hermione admitted, pressing a kiss to his bare chest.

He felt his breath hitch, and he nodded. "And I you, Hermione."

**-?-**

At The Burrow, Ron Weasley sighed and rolled over in his bed, the old wood creaking under his weight. A sliver of moonlight slipped through the window and landed on the makeshift cot in the corner that held his 'son'. The miniature redhead was really quite cute in his sleep. The picture of innocence. Ron sighed again.

He, like the rest of his family (discounting Percy, of course), couldn't wait to start his own brood. However, unlike most of the other Weasleys, he hadn't yet met the spouse of his dreams. Certainly, Hannah was a lovely girl, and they got along well enough…but, naturally, she had a partner of her own. Some bloke from Durmstrang. It figured.

His two best friends seemed to have found absolute romantic bliss, and he was still stuck on the outside looking in. That was, perhaps, the real reason he'd pushed them away. He'd been jealous of their happiness. Vaguely disturbed by their choice of partners, but namely jealous that they were so clearly placed with the people that would be their lovers for a large portion of their lives. Even though, initially, he'd assumed Hermione was closer to Malfoy than Snape, simply by the way they'd become so close so soon. But that was neither here nor there, now.

Was there something so wrong with him that he was bound to be alone? Was he really so unlovable? Hannah had, of course, let him down gently…But it hurt to watch the people he'd been so close to wind up in the arms of others. Not that he was at all romantically attached to either of his two best friends, but he'd always assumed that they'd progress through life at the same speed.

Now, though, it was clear that this was not the case. In fact, he was almost certain that Harry and Hermione would be parents numerous times over before he ever managed to tie some unsuspecting girl down.

He shook his head. It wouldn't do to get jealous again. In fact, he would be better off embracing this new twist, and immersing himself in his friends' lives, particularly when they did have children. At least that way he'd get plenty of practice before it was his turn. And, really, any of Harry and Hermione's children would be honorary Weasleys anyway…so, in effect, his family would be expanding, and he'd be there to see it happen.

That thought calmed him. He wasn't entirely unlovable, then. Not if his friends could reconcile with him after how awful he'd been…

A muffled "Daddy?" roused him from his musings and he sat up in bed, welcoming the toddler in next to him. He smoothed the child's hair gently and smiled to himself. No, he couldn't be all that unlovable after all…And life would shape up. He was certain of it.

* * *

**A/N- **Right, well, I hope it was worth the wait. This was the prac from hell. I HATE the school I was sent to, and the mentor teacher I was assigned to. But, it's over now, and I've survived. Relatively unscathed, too. Though, I swear, if one more person says "whatever doesn't kill you can only make you stronger", I WILL hurt them. 

Anywho, please review. I miss you guys so much. (Grin)

On a side note, I hadn't actually planned on letting Hermione and Severus get it on at all in this chapter. But, fortunately for them, they took over. So much for building tension, hey? LOL. At least they finally did. I can't tell you how irritating it is to be so close to it, to be so completely and totally overwhelmedby lust,and then having an inconsiderate housemate knock on your door. My partner still finds my frustration from those instances amusing. The prat.


	8. Void

A/N- Woot! FINALLY finished this chapter. Writer's Block is evil! And, er, I'm evil as well. Read to the end, THEN flame me! I won't apologise, though. It had to happen for the good of the fic. You may not believe me just yet…or ever…but don't abandon me after this one. I promise it'll get better….

One day.

------------------------------------

The holidays came to an end at an almost superhuman speed, and, for the first time in her life, Hermione was not looking forward to returning to school. Certainly, she was anxious to learn new spells and so forth, but she was reluctant to hide her blossoming relationship with the Potions Master. More than that, though, she was afraid of being caught before she held her diploma in hand.

"Knut for your thoughts?" Harry's voice broke into her reverie. He and Ron had been staying at Snape Manor for the last few days of the holidays at Dumbledore's 'request'. Hermione supposed the old man was proud of _that _particular stroke of genius. After all, it looked as though he cared enough to allow her some enjoyment with her friends, while having the added benefit of forcing Severus to spend his precious holiday time with the bane of his existence; the infamous Golden Trio.

The bushy haired girl offered her friend a soft smile. "I'm fine." She sighed. "Just don't want to head back to school so soon."

From his position on the floor -under a pile of toddlers- Ron squawked in mock-horror. "Someone fire-call _The Prophet_! Hermione Granger doesn't want to go back to school! Hell has frozen over!" He laughed as a cushion flew past him. "No wonder you never tried out for Quidditch, if _that's_ the best you can aim."

Poking her tongue out at him, Hermione summoned the cushion back. "Just be thankful I didn't hex you, Ronald."

"You wouldn't do that to _me_."

Harry laughed. "Want to bet, mate? 'Mione doesn't discriminate between friend or foe." He was, of course, referring to a recent incident whereupon he'd snuck up behind her, earning himself a nasty Bat Bogey hex.

She sniffed indignantly. "Serves you right for startling me."

"Mummy, what's a kwitish?" Sophia asked, pulling away from the mass of bodies on the floor and climbing into Hermione's lap.

"A what?"

"Kwitish." The little girl repeated confidently. "What's a kwitish?"

"You mean 'Quidditch?'" Harry asked. Sophia nodded enthusiastically. The two young men grinned.

"Only the best thing in the world!" Ron answered, very much aware of the looks of awe the boys in his lap were giving him. "It's a sport. We fly on broomsticks-"

"Flying!" Matthew cut in, his eyes wide as saucers. He turned to his 'father'. "I wanna fly!"

Harry sighed and shot his best mate an exasperated look that clearly said 'Now look what you've done'. "You're still too small, Matty…It's very dangerous…"

All three teenagers could sense the temper tantrum building as dark green eyes narrowed. "But I wanna!"

"Matthew…" Harry's tone of warning did nothing to prevent the little boy's outburst.

"I WANNA FLY!"

Hermione hid a grin. The child, like Sophia, had problems pronouncing his 'L's, so it sounded very much as though he wanted to 'fwy'.

"I don't wanna fly." Whispered the little girl in her lap, as though admitting such a thing was scandalous. And, according to Matthew, it was. His tears stopped almost immediately and he stared at his friend in abject horror.

"Why not?" He asked. "Papa says it's exshil…" he paused, trying to think of the word his Papa always said, "Exshy…er…exhil…umm..." He frowned in concentration. "He says it's fun."

Sophia shook her head. "Mummy says it scary." She looked up at her 'mother' for affirmation. "Readin's more fun, innit?"

Hermione nodded. "Most definitely."

"Nuh-uh. Papa's _always_ right. Flyin's more fun."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

Hermione sighed. This was going to be a _long_ day.

**-?-**

Severus finished the last of his packing and rubbed his face wearily. The return to Hogwarts would be bitter-sweet for him. After all, while it had been his place of employment for the last sixteen years or so, he'd considered the castle his home from the day he'd first crossed its threshold. Knowing that this would be his last semester there was terrifying in its own way.

He snorted derisively at the thought. Here he was, an out-of-use double agent for two of the most powerful wizards in history; a man with a sadistic reputation that preceded him, and he found the thought of finally being out in the big wide world on his own terrifying.

And then there was Hermione. He found his situation with her to be just as daunting.

Having lived the majority of his life in solitude (save for the occasional one night stand), he feared that he would completely balls this 'relationship' thing up; something he couldn't afford to do. For the first time in his life he was genuinely happy, and he couldn't fathom what he'd do, should he manage to ruin it all for himself. There would be no dungeon to hide in; no terrified children upon which to take out his rage and frustration. It would just be him, left all alone in a weathered old mansion. Which, essentially, brought him back to his initial fear of the unknown world.

As a Death Eater turned Spy for the Light, he'd gone about his ways _always_ acting upon someone's orders. Never once had he _really_ governed his own existence. Certainly, his demeanour had always suggested that he was his own person and that _he_ _alone_ dictated the terms upon which he performed any act…but, really, without being under Albus' or, Merlin help him, even Voldemort's command, his life had no purpose. He had no direction. And that was unnerving.

What was he to do once he left Hogwarts? Merlin only knew!

A knock at the door startled him from his reverie, and he barked a quick "Enter!" to cover himself. After all, he couldn't afford to appear too soft towards Potter or Weasley should his intruder be either of them, and, if it did turn out to be Hermione, he was certain she'd pay no heed to the bite in his tone.

"Severus?" A mane of bushy hair emerged from behind the door. "Can I come in?"

His features softened at once. "Of course."

Beaming at him, Hermione entered. "All done packing, I see." She observed. "I'm all set as well, though I really don't want to leave..." Gazing fondly around the bedroom she smothered a sigh. "I know it's not for eternity, but…"

"It's still daunting." He supplied, leaning forward for a chaste kiss. "I agree."

"The boys have enjoyed their stay, too. Though, I daresay Harry's dying to see Greg again. Matty's been driving him absolutely stir crazy these last couple of days."

"Oh, _poor_ Potter. Staying here without having to lift a bloody finger for the last few days must have been _so_ trying for _him_."

"Now, _really_," Severus wasn't exactly sure whether Hermione sounded exasperated or amused, "Harry's company has been quite pleasant, and you know it."

Exasperated it was, then.

He frowned. "Though it would have been even more pleasant if we had been left well enough alone."

"Which is _exactly_ how Albus wanted you to feel."

Unfortunately, he knew she was right. Wretched know-it-all. He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll admit that Potter's-" Hermione scowled. "-Blast it all! _Harry's_ presence has been tolerable." Her hands flew to her hips. He sighed. "Alright, his presence has been vaguely enjoyable. Does that satisfy you?"

The Head Girl's eyes glimmered with mirth. "It'll suffice…for now."

**-?-**

"Mudblood!" The cry rang out across the Great Hall as a speeding blond mass wrapped itself around Hermione's neck. "Don't ever leave me again."

"Oh, _really_ Malfoy!" She sighed and pulled away, fighting the urge to laugh. "Watch your language around the impressionable youth." Once he looked suitably chastised, she smiled. "So, why so happy to see me?"

Draco pulled a face. "My so-called 'holidays' were _awful_. Between listening to my aunt's drivel and taking care of a not entirely real -and yet, entirely _irritating_- three year old, I'm glad to be back in the company of relatively intelligent beings."

"_Relatively_ intelligent?" Harry cut in, bringing up the rear of their little group, "You flatter me, Draco."

The Slytherin batted his lashes coquettishly and opened his mouth to respond but snapped it shut upon spying the redheads in the newly arrived band of students. He looked to Hermione questioningly. "I've missed something here, haven 't I?" he asked, gesturing towards Ron and the mini-Weasley.

She smiled gently. "Be nice, Draco. We've worked through a lot these hols." As if to illustrate her point, she slung her arm across Ron's shoulders protectively. "You're both to behave, you hear me?" Her tone was playful, but there was a steely resolve behind her gaze that told the boys that it would definitely be in their interest to do as she said.

"Loud and clear, _Professor._" Draco replied cheekily.

She rolled her eyes and took a seat at the nearest table, encouraging the others to follow suit. A plate of bread rolls appeared in front of her, and she took one and began buttering it for Sophia. "So," she started, directing the question at Draco, "how long did you have a toddler to contend with on your own?"

"The entire sodding hols!" he replied, attacking a bread roll to vent his obvious displeasure. "Bloody Patil woman refused to take the brat at all. Reckoned that it'd look 'weird' in the Muggle world." He snorted derisively. "Funny how her sister took _hers_."

Hermione frowned. "But...Your grades!"

"Not _this_ again!" Ron moaned, covering his face with his hands. "'Mione, this isn't a NEWT course. A pass is all we need."

Surprisingly, Draco nodded in agreement. "Weasley's right; there're more important matters than getting an 'O' in a subject that has absolutely bugger all to do with our career paths."

"But-"

"No, no 'but's ." This time it was Harry who spoke. "It's all well and good if _you _are aiming for 'O's in all subjects, but the rest of us are free to aim however high…or low… we like." His expression softened. "Let us worry about ourselves, 'Mione. It's sweet that you care and all, but..."

"You're big boys now, I know."

Draco smirked, but Hermione prevented him from commenting by adding, "And I can do without any lewd remarks about just _how _big you are."

The boys snorted almost simultaneously. Hermione rolled her eyes.

_Children. _

**-?-**

The remainder of the holidaying students returned to Hogwarts over the weekend, arriving in a steady trickle. Some returned accompanied by parents, others by portkey or floo, and a select few arrived in thestral drawn carriages from Hogsmeade.

Harry's impatience for Goyle's arrival had at first been endearing to his friends, but had lost its charm by noon on Sunday.

"For Mordred's sake, Potter, stop pacing; it's making me dizzy."

From his position by the fireplace in the Head's commons, the raven-haired youth spun to glower at the blond on the couch. "If you don't like it, Malfoy, you can go back to your _own _room. I won't bother you _there_."

"Harry, _really_!" Hermione chastised, folding her arms across her chest. "These aren't your quarters, either, despite the amount of time you spend here. Draco has the same right to be as you or Ron."

The blond nodded with an air of smug superiority. "You heard the Head Girl, Potter. If I go, _you_ go."

"But I'm waiting for Greg!"

"And the fact that he was my best friend before you started seeing him has escaped your insipid little brain _why_?"

There was a pained sigh. "Listen, Malfoy, you're a…tolerable guy and all, but I haven't seen Greg for over a week and-"

"-Oh, you _poor_ thing! And here was I thinking that my lack of _any_ companion over the holidays was a perfectly reasonable justification for staying to greet my _best friend_…"

Hermione had had just about enough of the bickering and tossed her book aside with a sigh. "Come on, Soph," she said, interrupting the four children on the floor, "let's go see what Daddy's up to."

As they exited the rooms, she could hear Harry accusing Draco of chasing her away. She rolled her eyes. Some things would never change.

Arriving at Severus' rooms, she spoke the password without a second thought and made herself comfortable on her lover's couch, not possessing the energy (nor the patience) to search for him. He'd discover her sooner or later, and, in the mean time, she was going to enjoy the peace and quiet of his quarters.

Sophia, on the other hand, was intent on causing _some_ form of mischief. After all, it felt like an age since the last time she'd been in her Daddy's home. Waiting until her Mummy had closed her eyes, she wandered about, picking up random objects and playing with the ones that interested her the most. She was half-way through forcing a strange looking rock into a (unbeknownst to her) priceless vase when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Forgetting all about the 'toys' on the floor, she went into her Daddy's bedroom to investigate, then cried out in surprise when she stumbled upon a stranger.

"Who you?" She demanded, folding her arms across her chest like she had seen the blonde girl her Mummy had forced her to play with that afternoon do when she was cranky.

The stranger turned around, startled, before a wicked grin spread across her features. "Well, now, aren't you just a little sweetheart?" She cooed, drawing her kimono tightly around her slight frame. "You look just like your Daddy."

Sophia took a step forward in surprised awe. "Daddy?" She looked around, half expecting the man himself to appear.

Siobhan Matthews nodded and crouched down to meet the child's level. "That's right, your Daddy and I are _very_ good friends."

The little girl beamed. If this lady was a friend of her Daddy's, then she wanted to be friends with the nice lady too. "You be my friend?" She asked, her eyes wide like her Uncle Ron had taught her. He said it _always_ made her look cute, and that people would love her most when she did it. Then her Mummy had smacked him. She still couldn't understand _why_…But then, grown-ups were very silly people.

But, before the nice lady could answer, a booming voice behind her demanded: "What in Merlin's name are _you_ doing here?"

Siobhan straightened up at once, trying her very best to strike a 'sexy' pose. "I dropped by to surprise you, Severus." She purred. "You never replied to me at Christmas, and I was hoping that we might put the gift to some use."

Sophia was now standing between the two adults, and had realised that her Daddy was very angry. She looked up at the man and hoped that he wasn't angry at her again. "Daddy?" She asked quietly, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

He softened when he looked down at her, and, scowling once more at his unwelcome intruder, reached down and hoisted her onto his hip, whereupon she immediately snuggled into his chest. He spun angrily back to face the other Professor. "Get out of my rooms, Woman, before I have you _thrown_ out."

"Now, Severus…"

"You are _trespassing_ in my private chambers."

"But I had hoped-"

"You'd best _hope_ I don't hex you into the next dimension!" He snapped. "Get _OUT_!"

"What's going on?" Hermione had entered the fray, and stopped short at the sight of her Potions Professor wearing nothing but a satin dressing-gown.

The other woman seemed just as surprised –if not more so- to see the Head Girl in Snape's chambers. "I should ask the same bloody thing!"

Hermione drew herself up in indignation. "_I _am here because of my assignment." She gestured at the toddler clutching desperately at Severus' robes. "Professor Dumbledore _requires_ that I see Severus in my own time."

The other woman's expression became feral. "Ah, _Severus _is it?" Hermione tried her very best not to blush at the slip of the tongue, while Matthews continued; "When you play your little pretend games, do you do _all_ the things that a real couple do?" She sneered, before answering her own question. "Of course not. A bookworm such as yourself wouldn't have the foggiest-"

"Professor Matthews, I suggest you stop before you say something you'll really regret." Hermione's tone was steely. "I consider myself lucky that Professor Snape has been so upstanding and helpful throughout this entire ordeal. For you to even imply that he has been anything but a proper gentleman and Professor shows not only how very little you know of him, but also highlights the sort of character _you_ are."

"You forget, little girl, that I can rob you of your title _and_ make certain that you don't graduate with your peers."

Severus snorted. "Please, Siobhan, spare us the melodrama. For that very threat I should report you to the Board of Governors."

The other Potions Professor paused to consider this, then shot them both a dirty look. "I'll be watching the both of you." She informed them as she brushed past and took her leave.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the woman's retreating form, and turned back to Severus, who, she was surprised to find, was glowering at _her_.

"What?" She asked.

"That was a foolish thing for you to do." He snapped.

The Head Girl blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Letting yourself into my quarters. Just what were you _thinking_? Or were you not thinking at all?"

She was now on the defensive. "Oh, I don't know…Perhaps I was thinking that, as it is the last day of the holidays, I should come down and spend some time with the man I love?"

He was unmoved by the reminder of their relationship and all that it meant. "Perhaps," he echoed snidely, "You should have been thinking that, as it _is_ the last day of the holidays, other staff returning to the castle might catch you taking such liberties and begin to put two and two together!"

"I just wanted to spend some time with you before we had to put on a show!"

"Well, it was most certainly the wrong way to go about it!"

She blinked. "Severus-"

"Damn it, Girl, have you no idea of the trouble you might have caused!"

"Might have, Severus. _Might have_." Hermione countered, trying her best to reign in her temper. "Nothing terrible _has_ happened. Nothing terrible _will _happen."

Ignoring Sophia's whimpers, Severus flared back up. "Oh?" He asked, gesturing towards the door with his free hand. "And that scene with Siobhan? What exactly do you think is going to happen there, hmm? Do you think she'll conveniently forget this entire ordeal?" When she averted her gaze in defeat, he sneered; "And _you_ are the brightest witch of the age? Our society is doomed."

Eyes brimming with tears, the Head Girl turned on her heel and fled his rooms, leaving him to deal with the now howling toddler in his arms.

**-?-**

"Granger?" Greg asked as the bushy haired girl stumbled through the portrait and raced past him and onwards into her room. "Granger?" He called again, pushing himself up from the couch. There was still no response, and he was relatively certain he could hear sobs emanating from the general vicinity of her room. He should have known, after the epic battle to get his 'son' to sleep, that the peace and quiet of their quarters wouldn't last very long. With a sigh he knocked on her door. "'Ermione? Open up."

"Go 'way."

If he weren't so concerned as to what had the bint's knickers in a twist, he would have found her plaintive mewl amusing.

"Not likely, Granger. Now open the bloody door before I knock it down."

There was a brief pause –marked by a number of hiccups- while she considered this. Just as he was about to knock again, the door swung open. He smirked. "That's more like it." His expression faded as his gaze landed upon her tear-stained face. "Go on then," he prodded, sitting on the edge of her bed, "what's wrong?"

Across the room, in her position against the wall, Hermione hugged her knees tighter in an effort to avoid another onslaught of tears. "I don't want to talk about it."

Goyle rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Granger, you know you'll end up tellin' me, so let's skip the drama, okay?" He summoned a wad of tissues and levitated them towards her. "So, go on, clean yerself up and then start talkin'."

With a deep, shaky sigh, Hermione blew her nose and took a moment to calm herself, then proceeded to explain the entire ordeal as she'd seen it.

"…So I turned and came back here with every intention to curl up in my room and feel sorry for myself." She finished, feeling emotionally drained. Snorting half-heartedly, she added; "But you put paid to that plan."

"You know, Granger," the young man pondered aloud, "Snape had a point…"

"Oh, go on then; take his side." She sniffled. "Bloody Slytherins."

He shook his head. "Don't get snippy with me, 'Ermione. I'm just callin' it as I see it. And when you calm down properly and untwist yer knickers, you'll agree with me."

She huffed and folded her arms over her chest like a petulant child. "I _know_, Greg. But that doesn't mean that I don't want to behave like a _normal_ hormonal teenage girl every once in a while. So, unless you're prepared to humour me while I moan about my woes and wallow in my misery, I suggest you leave me be."

Instead of leaving as he wanted to, the Head Boy summoned a house-elf and requested a mound of chocolate large enough to satisfy a troll. Hermione smiled gratefully, once again humbled by how lucky she was to have such thoughtful friends.

"Oh, Merlin," she moaned popping the first piece into her mouth, closing her eyes to enjoy the sensation. "Gods I needed this." She reopened her eyes and fixed her gaze upon him. "Thank you…"

"Don't mention it," he chuckled, reaching for his own piece, " S'what friends are for, innit?"

Instead of replying, Hermione simply popped another piece of chocolate into her mouth with a smile. She would have to make this up to him at some point. In the mean time, though, there was chocolate to eat!

**-?-**

Severus was not impressed. Didn't the silly girl realise how close they'd come to discovery? And it was so incredibly _typical_ that she would still find a way to make him feel terrible about the entire ordeal! Then, to top it all off, she left him with the toddler. The very upset toddler, whose entire supply of toys, clothes and nappies were, incidentally, still in Hermione's trunk.

Well, he supposed, there was nothing for it. He'd have to go and retrieve Sophia's things, as her crying was beginning to try his nerves.

**-?-**

"Professor Snape!" Goyle exclaimed in surprise, having hauled himself up from Hermione's bed to answer the incessant knocking at their common room portrait. He recovered quickly; "How can I help you tonight, Sir?"

"Is Miss Granger available?"

To the Potion Master's consternation, the teenager before him grinned knowingly. "Yes, Sir. Come on in. She's in her room. Take a seat and I'll go get her."

Crossing to the Head Girl's door, the younger man knocked and opened the door widely enough to poke his head into the room. "Oi, 'Ermione, Professor Snape's here for you."

Hermione stared back in shock. "What? _Why?_"

He shrugged. "Dunno. He didn't say and I wasn't about to ask."

She ran a hand through her unruly locks in frustration. "_Thanks_," she sighed sarcastically. "Tell him I'll be right out."

Goyle nodded and shut the door, before turning around to face his impatient Head of House. "She says she'll be right out."

"Thank you, Mr. Goyle," Severus replied dryly. "I'll have you know that, despite the fact that I'm your senior, I am not yet deaf. I heard her quite well enough on my own."

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir." Goyle mentally rolled his eyes. The man was _so_ melodramatic.

Severus wasn't certain he approved of the Head Boy's tone, but, before he could say anything, Hermione emerged from her bedroom, Sophia's things in hand.

"Here you go, Professor. I assume that this is what you're after."

He narrowed his eyes. "Thank you, but I would also like a word in private about your behaviour earlier."

Predictably, she flared up at once. "_My_ behaviour? Severus-"

"SILENCE!" he bellowed, gesturing towards the Head Boy. "Yet again you call me by name in the presence of another's company! Don't you _ever_ think!"

"It's just Goyle!" She responded tartly. "My _best_ _friend's_ boyfriend, _and_ **_my_** room-mate. Do you think I'd lie about what's going on between us to _him_?" She fought back bitter tears. "I _need_ a confidante in this, Severus, and Greg's it."

For the briefest moment, Severus Snape felt pang of jealous but brushed it away. He'd have time to brood later. For now, he was too caught up in the argument to allow his emotions to sway him. "And you can't see, even vaguely, that the more people you divulge the information too, the more dangerous for _the both of us_ it will be to carry on with whatever it is you choose to think we have?"

"Whatever it is I choose to think…?" Hermione took a step backwards, stung by the flippant way he spoke of their relationship. "I _thought_ it was love, but clearly I was deluded!" She spat, folding her arms across her chest. "For all your grand sweeping statements about 'never wanting to give me up once you had me', you certainly had me fooled, _Professor_." The bag filled with Sophia's things was thrown at him to punctuate her final word as she stormed back into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Gregory Goyle fidgeted for a moment, before excusing himself and following in her wake. After all, Snape could find his own way out. He wasn't _completely_ stupid.

**-?-**

The next few days passed in a bit of a blur for both the Head Girl and the Potions Master. The former had tried her best to avoid the latter at all costs, while the latter himself spent most of his time brooding over his own crass behaviour, or morphing back into the dreaded Professor the students all knew and loathed. It was more than obvious, to anyone who cared to observe, that the two individuals had had a major falling out, and that neither one of them could be pleased anymore.

This, naturally, pleased Albus Dumbledore greatly. To him it seemed as though his plan was _finally_ working.

**-?-**

"Come _on_, Greg…We haven't got all day!" Harry was bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement; it was the annual Valentine's Hogsmeade weekend and Hermione had offered to look after their charge so that her friends might actually get a chance to enjoy some private time together. After all, there was nothing better for her to do. Schoolwork had lost its charm and she clearly wasn't spending her spare time with her so-called 'lover' anymore. There was a void to fill, and looking after toddlers seemed to be the best option with which to fill it. She didn't have the compulsion to go to Hogsmeade with her peers, either. She had everything she needed in the castle, and feared that looking upon all of the hand-holding and kissing would make her physically ill.

So it had been settled, then, (with little argument from Harry and Goyle) that she would take Matty off their hands while they went off to Hogsmeade without her.

Meanwhile, Harry was getting impatient. "Gre-e-eg!" He whined, drawing out his boyfriend's name in a childish sing-song. "Let's go-o-o."

The near behemoth emerged from his bedroom looking thoroughly harassed. "Has anyone ever told you, Potter, that you're a pain in the arse?" At Harry's wicked grin, he groaned. "On second thoughts, _don't_ answer that."

"Oh, go on, get going!" Hermione interrupted, "If I have to listen to you flirt any longer I'm going to go absolutely bonkers!" She ushered them towards the portrait hole. "Out, out, _out!_"

Once they were gone, she shut the portrait and turned back to her small charges, who were both looking up at her as though she were _already_ bonkers. "Right," she chirped, "What do you two want to do today?"

**-?-**

"Do you think it was fair to leave her alone up there?" Greg wondered aloud as he and Harry strolled along the main street of Hogsmeade.

A Quidditch display caught the other boy's eye, and he pulled his lover towards the shop window. "But she's not alone," he responded distractedly. "Ooh, look at the new Firebolt!"

The Head Boy sighed and gave Harry's hand a tender squeeze. "Fake toddlers don't count as proper company, Potter."

Green eyes met brown. "I know, but she's so stubborn. There's no point worrying about her…She'd only tell us the same thing."

"I know, but she's now quite…vacant. Not that I blame 'er. You should have seen them at it…Snape was a real git. Hurt 'er terribly."

"As you've told me again and again and again…" Harry smiled. "It's sweet, though, how much you care about her. I'm glad you're so close." He hugged Goyle closer. "Remind me to thank that hat…"

**-?-**

Hermione sighed and dropped down onto the couch wearily. Looking after toddlers on one's own was no picnic. Cleaning up after them on one's own was even worse. Thankfully they'd gone down for their afternoon naps without a fight, otherwise she was certain homicide would have been on the cards.

Closing her eyes, she decided that a short nap of her own was most definitely deserved.

"Oi, sleeping on the job are we?"

"Wha?" The Head Girl mumbled incoherently, opening her bleary eyes. A shock of white-blond hair came into focus, followed by laughing grey eyes and smirking pink lips. "Malfoy?" She asked, sitting up and clearing a space to her right. "What on earth are _you_ doing here."

He plonked himself down beside her. "Heard you were up here with only the rugrats for company and decided to join you while Patil _finally_ takes little what's-her-name."

"Pia?"

"_That's_ the one!" He shrugged. "She had some sort of reason for it. All I know is I didn't choose it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. So you decided to spend your free time with me?" She placed her hand to her heart melodramatically. "I'm touched, really." She punctuated the statement with a roll of her eyes.

He chuckled and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "Seriously though, Granger, you can't just lock yourself in your room when you're having a bad run of things."

"And you'd be an expert on this _how_?"

He arched an eyebrow. "I'm going to let _that_ moment of utter stupidity pass as a woman's emotions interfering with her intelligence." At her look of irritation he sighed. "Granger, my entire childhood was 'a bad run of things'. Son of Death Eaters. Having to pretend that I, too, wanted to rid the world of all things remotely Muggle. Having to watch my back from attacks from _both_ sides…Need I go on?"

Averting her gaze, the Gryffindor shook her head. "Sorry, Draco…I'm not thinking clearly. I'm really not the best company at the moment. Why don't you go find a pretty little sixth year and enjoy yourself like the rest of our class?"

"Why bother when I can enjoy myself with you?" His arm snaked across her shoulders and drew her flush against his side.

She rolled her eyes. "Charming, Malfoy. Charming."

"Naturally," came the drawled response, "I _am_ a Malfoy."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither certain what to say next. It was awkward, though neither could pinpoint _why_. They'd flirted before, often relying on crude humour to keep themselves entertained. But it had only ever been in jest, and never had they sat in an awkward silence following any such encounter. So what was so different now? Their session hadn't even _bordered_ on crude!

"Granger, I-"

"Draco-"

They spoke at the same time, before fading into sheepish chuckles. The Slytherin motioned for her to speak first.

She blushed under his gaze. "You really should be off in Hogsmeade terrorising the sixth years…"

"And if I really don't want to be?"

She shrugged. "It's your prerogative, then."

"Good."

"Good." She echoed.

He smirked. "Fine."

"Fine."

Somehow, she noticed, they'd gotten rather…snug there on the couch. She attempted to avert her gaze from his inviting lips. "Draco-" she started, but was silenced by a slender finger to her lips.

"Hermione," her name sounded so foreign from his lips, but she remained silent. Something inside her screamed for her to move, but another part compelled her to stay. She was frozen as he moved in closer. "Don't fight it." He whispered.

_Fight it? FIGHT IT? _She couldn't even think straight. Fighting it was damn near impossible. But she really should, shouldn't she? _What would Severus think?_

As soft, inviting lips landed upon hers, all thoughts of Severus Snape flew out the window. She'd needed this, she reasoned. She needed to feel wanted. And, right now, Draco Malfoy was filling that particular void quite nicely.

As his tongue slipped past her lips she stifled a moan of satisfaction.

_Yes_, she thought, _quite nicely indeed._

**-?-**

"I reckon 'Mione will be _more_ than happy with this stash." Harry grinned as he walked, holding up a bulging paper bag. "Her teeth won't know what hit 'em."

Gregory laughed, but then sobered. "I'm bettin' she'll need a sugar high right about now." He reconsidered the statement, then added; "If she didn't already need one, that is."

The Gryffindor boy nodded. "Somehow I doubt sugar will fix everything, though."

"Mmm," Goyle mused, "But it 'elps a little. Particularly chocolate." A smile worked its way back across his features. "An' doesn't that woman love 'er chocolate."

"Funny how the daughter of Muggle Dentists could develop such a sweet tooth…"

They were approaching the portrait to the Heads' Quarters as Greg replied, "It's probably a result of not really knowin' sweets 'til she got 'ere. A bit of rebellion in 'er freedom."

He spoke the password, and continued onwards. "Merlin knows we all have _somethin'_ to rebel against…" His sentence faded into a shocked silence as he took in the scene in front of him and came to a standstill.

The Head Girl and the self-proclaimed Prince of Slytherin were engaged in a rather steamy embrace -their hands down one another's underwear (though, technically, their underwear was on the floor…)- and totally oblivious to the entrance of the other students as they ravished each other's mouths.

To Gregory's left, Harry stared aghast.

The Head Boy recovered from the shock first. "Just _what_ is goin' on here?" He demanded, not bothering to respect their privacy. Nor did he care that the two on the couch had their nether-regions exposed for all the world to see. What he _did_ care about was discovering just _why_ they were in such an intimate position to begin with.

Hermione shrieked and smoothed down her skirt poste-haste, while Draco rose and slowly slipped back into his underwear and trousers, shooting his supposed 'best friend' a glare worthy of Snape himself.

"Not that it's any of your business…" the blond drawled, but was cut off (rather rudely in his opinion).

"Not my business?" The near behemoth all but roared. "You're practically shagging in _my_ common room! Not to mention the fact that we trusted Matty to _you_, 'Ermione! What if he were to 'ave wandered out 'ere an' seen…_that_?"

She was bright red, teary and looking for an escape route. "I…I wasn't thinking." She stammered.

"Oi!" Draco cut in, "What about the fact that it's her common room as much as it is yours?"

"_I_ respect _her_ enough to not shag in the bloody middle of it!"

Using the blond Slytherin's interruption as a distraction, the Head Girl made a move towards her room. Unfortunately, Gregory was having none of it.

"You stay right where you are; I'm not done with you yet."

She sniffled but decided it best not to cross him while he was in such a state. After all, the logical part of her brain (which had resumed functioning when Goyle made his presence known) told her that he had every right to be upset with her.

Turning back on Draco, he gestured towards the open portrait. "Leave. I'll talk to you later."

The blond left in a huff, not even bothering to spare Hermione a glance on his way out.

Erecting a series of charms, including a Silencing and Locking charm, Goyle turned back to his room-mate. Instead of yelling at her, though, he softened and asked; "Why?"

Instead of crying like she wanted to, Hermione merely shrugged. "Honestly? I don't know…I just…He wanted me, you know? It felt so good to be wanted again."

Harry was astounded to see his Hermione –his strong, independent Hermione- in such a state. "But, 'Mione…Meaningless sex with Draco?"

Eyes flashing dangerously, she snapped in return; "Stupid, I know. Now, should I whistle for you the next time I'm in dire need of a conscience?"

Floundering, the Boy Who Lived looked to his boyfriend. Gregory shook his head.

"Easy, 'Mione…Harry's only tryin' to make sense of what we just witnessed." He sighed. "Did you even stop to think about Snape?"

The Head Girl tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly sprung up in her throat. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. What _would_ Severus say? Or, more importantly, what would he _do_? He'd made himself perfectly clear about how highly he valued loyalty and trust…and she'd just blown it. Almost literally. Thank every deity above that the others had arrived before _that_ could have taken place!

Suddenly, with all the brute force of a rogue bludger, the reality of what she'd done struck her and she felt her knees buckle under the weight of her guilty conscience.

"Oh, Gods…" She moaned, falling to her knees, clutching at the nearest wall to steady herself. "Oh, Merlin…What have I done?"

Sadly, neither one of the boys in her presence knew how to make the situation any better, and all three of them knew that, when Severus Snape eventually found out (and there was no mistaking the fact that he would), things would only get worse.

--------------------------------------------

A/N- Go on...press the little 'review' button...Tell me why you hate me...

Thanks to Lone Butterfly for pointing out my MAJOR mistake. It is most definitely Valentine's and NOT Halloween. Sorry again for the confusion. 50 Points to Lone Butterfly for pointing it out.


	9. I Forgive You

A/N – Right, well, there's a lot to take in in this chapter, so I hope you find something to your liking here. I want to thank all of my reviewers, but in particular _Lena Andromeda Black_, for one of her lovely ideas throughout our lengthy PM discussions, and the wonderful _Dafina _for an idea she put in my head in one of our discussions, too.

* * *

If Hermione had thought going to her required meetings with Severus had been awful for the last few weeks, they were about to become absolutely unbearable now, following her tryst with Malfoy over the Valentine's Weekend. Her stomach clenched with guilt every time she even thought of the older wizard. How was she to get through hourly meetings with him without breaking down and confessing the entire thing?

Worse still, her relationship with Goyle had become strained to the point where they barely even nodded in acknowledgement of one another when their paths crossed. Draco refused to speak to her, and Harry…Harry was clearly stuck between a rock and a hard place. She understood that his first priority nowadays was to ensure that his boyfriend was comfortable and happy, but did that mean he, too, had to avoid her wherever possible?

And then there was Ron. Poor, innocent, naïve Ron. He wasn't stupid; he knew that _something_ major had happened over the Hogsmeade Weekend. He just didn't know what it was, other than the fact that Hermione was now the subject of the others' scorn. He, too, was torn between asking her outright or ignoring her like the others. Though he opted for a 'happy medium' (How she _loathed_ that phrase! There was _nothing_ 'happy' about the situation!), his conversations with her had been awkward and forced.

She sighed. She'd brought this upon herself, she knew. But, then, why were they still talking to Draco? Hadn't he also participated? Was he really so innocent in all of this just because he didn't have a partner to betray?

And that was the crux of it, wasn't it? The fact that she'd betrayed Severus; the man she claimed to love with all her heart. The now constant knot in her stomach clenched painfully again at the thought of him. At the thought of her deceit.

Goyle had told her that she had to tell him. That she had to confess before he heard it as some second-hand gossip. How, she had asked, when it would only crush him all the more to hear it from her own lips? Lips that had ventured to unspeakable places on his body. Lips that had, oh-so-recently, proclaimed their undying love. Wouldn't that be compounding the betrayal? Twisting the knife further into the wound?

But Greg would hear none of it. He'd warned her to tell the truth before it was too late. Before every ounce of Severus' trust was shattered completely. Before their relationship was irreparable.

She'd cried then. Oh, how she'd cried at the thought of losing her lover. Of losing one of her best friends and confidantes. And Goyle had looked at her with compassion and pity in equal doses and said; 'Only you can fix this, Hermione.'

Those had been the last words they'd exchanged. She'd been left to sort herself out. Comfort was never afforded to the guilty. Huddled in a ball on her bed, Hermione had cried herself to sleep. The next morning she'd felt like a zombie; emotionally drained and completely unaware of her surroundings. When her mind finally recalled the previous night's events, she'd stifled a sob and gone on with her day, determined to confess to Severus and suffer the consequences.

Needless to say, that never happened. _Some Gryffindor I am_, the Head Girl thought sadly, _I'm a coward. Not even mature enough to face the consequences of my own actions._

But there was no point wallowing. It never fixed anything. There was only one thing that would, and that involved facing the music.

Pity she wasn't in the mood to dance.

**-?-**

"Don't you think this 'ignore Granger' policy you have going has gone on long enough?" Draco asked, dropping down next to Goyle in Potions.

Sparing a weary glance in their Professor's direction, Greg rolled his eyes. "Because you're doin' such a bang up job in helpin' 'er through this."

"It's completely different and you know it." Came the ruffled response. "What am I expected to say to her?" He brutally started chopping the root in front of him as he donned a deprecating tone; "_Hey, Granger, sorry I felt you up and all. It was all a spot of fun. Let's still be friends?_"

"Draco," Greg sighed, "It was more serious than that. What if Potter an' I hadn't walked in when we did? You'd 'ave both made a bigger mistake than you already 'ave."

Neither boy noticed the subtle charm cast by the Professor as they continued to whisper over their concoction.

"She's a big girl, Greg. Old enough to make her own decisions."

An exasperated sigh. "You git; it was Valentine's an' she was hurtin'. Was prepared to accept a little warmth from anyone, wasn't she? An' _you_," a dead roach was jabbed in the blond's direction, "took advantage of that."

As he sat at his desk listening in to the conversation, Severus Snape glowered. He did _not_ like what he was hearing.

"I didn't take advantage of anyone!" Draco hissed, oblivious to the furtive glance Goyle sent in the Professor's direction. "She was more than happy to oblige-"

"That's just it!" Greg hissed back, hoping against hope that Snape's attention stayed elsewhere. "She was 'appy to oblige 'cos she wanted to feel wanted, if only for a night. Be thankful we interrupted the two of you before you got too far into anythin'."

They'd had this conversation before, and it always came down to this.

Draco groaned. "Too far?" he echoed. "She was tossing me off, you git. If that doesn't constitute 'too far', I don't know what does in this place, considering the wards. And _you_ bloody ruined it."

"And _you_ knew that she and Snape were serious!"

"Hasn't looked that way for months. _Someone_ needed to enjoy her."

Severus Snape had heard enough.

He rose from his seat, slowly and deliberately, and approached the two Slytherins. Goyle's heart plummeted into his stomach; he knew they'd been heard.

"Mister Malfoy," the Head of House drawled dangerously, before turning to the other boy, "Mister Goyle."

The Head Boy swallowed hard. They were in deep dragon dung now. "Professor Snape." He nodded courteously.

"I wish for the two of you to stay behind after class." The Professor began, deceptively calm. "House business."

_Yes_, he decided as he nodded his acceptance, _Our lives are forfeit._

**-?-**

"Mummy?" Sophia asked from the floor of Hermione's room.

From her position on the bed, the Head Girl glanced at her 'daughter'. "Yes?"

"Why no more kisses?"

Hermione was confused. "What do you mean?"

The little girl picked up her dolls and continued to play with them as she responded, "Why you an' Daddy no kiss no more?"

"Sometimes," the Gryffindor sighed, "Mummies and Daddies take breaks from kissing."

"Oh," Sophia pondered this for a moment, before shrugging and nodding. "Okay."

Hermione sighed again.

_If only things were that simple…_

**-?-**

Having erected complex Silencing and Locking charms on the room, a misleadingly composed Severus Snape turned back to his two seventh year students.

"Sir?" Draco asked uncertainly, finally realising that this 'House Business' was more important than he'd first assumed.

"_Silence_!"

The blond nodded and averted his gaze. The Professor was upset with him, so it would be in his interest to do as he was told. He caught Greg's eye and raised an eyebrow questioningly. The Head Boy shook his head in the universal sign for 'If you don't already know, you're more stupid than I first suspected'.

Suddenly Draco had an inkling as to why he and Greg had been kept behind, and, for once, he hoped against hope that he was incorrect. Because, if he was indeed right (as he suspected he was), he would be lucky if the others could even identify his remains once Snape was done with him.

As the Professor descended upon him, his final thought was that he hoped his funeral would be fitting for a Malfoy.

**-?-**

Harry watched as Hermione played with her 'daughter' in the Heads' common room. He lamented that things between them had become awkward, but the things she'd been doing to Malfoy…they were unspeakable. Namely because they were with Malfoy, of all people. He knew she'd been hurting, but had hoped that she'd spill her guts to him or Ron…Never in his wildest imaginings had he thought she'd go running off to have a fling! Particularly one with Malfoy! It was absurd and _so_ unlike the Hermione Granger he knew that he just could not comprehend _why_ she'd done it.

"When you're done staring, Harry, you can actually ask me. I don't bite, you know."

He gaped at her. It was almost as though she'd read his mind! Surely Snape hadn't taught her Legilimency in the few weeks they'd been together!

Glancing up at him, Hermione rolled her eyes. "And, before you ask, I'm not reading anyone's mind. The look on your face was so typically _you_ that I guessed you needed something cleared up." She shrugged and turned back to her game with Sophia. "So, go ahead. Feel free to ask anything."

Utterly flabbergasted (and just a little uncertain as to whether he should be offended at her description of his facial expressions), Harry cleared his throat. "Right…well…why'd you do it, then?"

Never shifting her gaze from her young charge she responded; "Why did I do _what_, Harry?"

"Malfoy." He snapped. "Why'd you almost do Malfoy?"

This time she did turn to face him. "I've been asking myself the same thing. Over and over again. All I can really be certain of is the fact that it was Valentines and Severus and I hadn't said more than two civil words to each other in the last two months…" She sighed. "It was a mistake. I know it was. But he wanted me. And I…I wanted to _be_ wanted again. Just for a moment. Hang the consequences…"

Harry almost felt sorry for her. But she'd known what she was doing. She'd known it was wrong. "That's just not like you, though, 'Mione." He said, watching as she smiled fondly at the child on the floor. "You're the first person to think everything through to the letter...and the _last_ person to conduct an illicit affair without considering the consequences…"

"That was just _it_." Again her attention was on him. "I thought that perhaps for once it would be best if I stopped being a know-it-all. I mean," here she snorted in self-derision, "being myself wasn't exactly working either, was it?"

"Hermione, listen to yourself!" He threw his hands into the air to emphasise his frustration. "You were perfect as you were! Snape's just a git. Always has been, always will be. No amount of love and warm, fuzzy feelings are going to change the way he is." He levelled his gaze with her own. "And you _knew_ _that_ going into the entire thing."

She nodded reluctantly. Since when did her Harry know so much?

They sat in an almost comfortable silence for a few more minutes before Harry checked his watch and frowned. "Oi," he muttered, "Wonder what's keeping Greg so long…I got out of Muggle Studies ages ago. It doesn't take _that_ long to swing by the Hospital Wing and grab Matty…"

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe he got held back. Whose class was he in?"

Leaping from the couch, the Gryffindor boy raced over to where his boyfriend's timetable sat on the side table. He scanned it then furrowed his brow. "Snape's."

Despite her best attempts to be reasonable, alarm bells started to ring in Hermione's head. Something about Severus holding Greg back had made her extremely uneasy, and she was relatively certain the shit was about to hit the proverbial fan.

**-?-**

Severus dismissed the two young men after having a rather civil –in his opinion- discussion with them both. Once they were gone, he entered his personal chambers and dropped onto his couch, emotionally drained.

He was confused. He was hurt. He was angry. (Oh, Merlin was he angry!) He felt betrayed and then, most notably, he felt stupid.

Stupid for getting so attached to another person.

Stupid for allowing said person to be nineteen years his junior.

Stupid for not putting a stop to their feud months ago.

Stupid for ever agreeing to be her 'friend' (and then some) in the first place.

And, most importantly, he felt stupid for trusting her.

Not surprisingly, Severus Snape was not a man who appreciated being made to feel the fool. Taking a deep breath, he considered his options. He could always take Siobhan up on one of her constant offers…but the very thought caused him to shudder. Though he was certain such actions would definitely inflict pain upon his supposed _beloved_, he knew he couldn't bring himself to carry them out. After all, he was a Snape, and Snapes maintained their poise and dignity in any crisis. Touching Siobhan Matthews would definitely _not_ be a poised or dignified act.

_However,_ a wicked smirk graced his lips,_ The mere **thought** that I had touched her might work just as effectively. _

Yes…that was it! He'd somehow have to lead the girl into believing that he _had_ succumbed to Matthews' (dare he even think it) _charms_. Revolted at the thought, but exhilarated by the prospect of causing Hermione pain, Severus sat back and closed his eyes; his mind working frantically to formulate a foolproof plan of his own.

**-?-**

When Gregory finally stumbled through the portrait, ashen faced, Hermione knew that something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.

"Daddy!" Matty ran from the Head Boy's side to his other father, oblivious to the tension in the room. "Daddy, I drawed a picture-" he pronounced it 'pitcher', "-for you. Wanna see?"

Crouching to his 'son's' level, Harry nodded, and shot Greg a look that told him they'd speak later, knowing, instinctively, that he and Hermione would have a lot to discuss. "Of course, Matty. Let's take Soph with us, yeah? And you can both draw some more pictures…"

The little boy grinned and bounced up and down with excitement before racing over and yanking the aforementioned little girl to her feet. "C'mon!" He cried, tugging her along as he ran back to his Daddy, "We're gonna draw with my Daddy!"

Bewildered, Sophia looked to her mother. "Mummy?"

Now standing and staring unblinkingly at the Head Boy, Hermione waved her off. "Go have fun, bubs, Mummy has some grown-up stuff to do."

The two Heads waited until Harry had escorted the children into the Head Boy's room, before they spoke.

It was Hermione who inevitably broke the silence.

"He knows."

It wasn't a question, it was a factual statement. Her tone, however, was accusatory.

Goyle was defensive in his response; "You knew it wasn't goin' to stay a secret forever."

Her eyes widened. "_You_ told him! You _willingly_ told him!"

"Oi! Get yer facts straight, woman, before ya' start throwin' accusations around."

"So you didn't tell him?" Hermione's tone highlighted her scepticism.

Greg shook his head. "Not deliberately-"

Hermione stopped listening. Ignoring Goyle's protests, she turned on her heel and stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her.

**-?-**

Days dragged by and Hermione spent each and every one trying her very best to avoid any contact with her so-called 'friends'. She'd skived off every scheduled meeting time with Severus as well, knowing that he'd be livid if she dared to show her face in his presence. Life, she decided, couldn't be worse.

Of course, having thought that, things inevitably took yet another turn for the worst when Dumbledore demanded her presence in his office on Friday evening. When she arrived she was unsurprised to find Severus glowering from the opposing side of the room. Avoiding his gaze, she greeted the Headmaster appropriately and waited for him to explain why he'd summoned her. She did not have to wait long.

"Take a seat, my dear." The old Wizard gestured to the chair closest to her.

She complied respectfully and he smiled at her, then asked Severus to do the same. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione watched him hesitate and mutter under his breath (most likely about _insufferable old fools_) before he, too, complied with the Headmaster's wishes.

After offering them the obligatory lemon drop, Albus folded his hands and leant forward at his desk, looking down his nose, through his spectacles, as he observed them both.

"It has come to my attention," he began, "that the two of you are no longer on speaking terms, and that you, Miss Granger," here he looked at her pointedly, "have been skipping your allocated spares with Professor Snape altogether."

Feeling particularly defiant, she stared directly back at him. "Yes, Professor?" She asked as though she wasn't certain there was anything inherently _wrong_ with skipping those meetings.

Blue eyes, usually glittering with mirth, hardened at her insolence. "Hermione, my dear, I was under the impression that you and Severus were getting along quite well."

They both chose to ignore the snort that comment elicited from the man in question.

"Yes, Professor." She informed him with a nod of her head. "Unfortunately, though, we've had a bit of a falling out, and I thought it best if we spent some time apart. I promise, though, that this entire ordeal will be written up in my journal for the class. I expect _all_-" she fought the urge to cry as she spoke the next word "-'couples' have similar spats during their relationships…"

"Be that as it may, child, those meeting times have been allocated for a reason, and you should be using them to rebuild your relationship rather than distance yourselves further."

She ducked her head in acknowledgment. "Yes, sir. Sorry…"

"Don't apologise to me, Miss Granger. Apologise to Severus. It is his time you have wasted."

She tried her very best not to scowl at that remark. "Of course, Professor." She turned to face her…_What_ was he to her now? Ex-lover? She suddenly felt overwhelmed with grief. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Professor Snape." As she voiced the apology, they both knew that she was speaking of more than simply a few missed meetings. Her lower lip quivered and she felt her throat constrict. "I…I have to go." And with that, she raced from the room, silent tears tracing tracks down her face.

**-?-**

Severus slammed the door to his chambers shut and cursed loudly. He still had feelings for the bloody bint! She'd hurt him beyond belief, and _still_ he lo…_wanted_ her. It was entirely unreasonable! And, though he wanted so terribly to hurt her in return, he wasn't entirely certain he could see his plan through. Not if she was going to look at him as she had today; remorseful and still painfully lovingly.

She was most certainly not forgiven for her actions, but perhaps…perhaps in time he could…

_What in **MERLIN'S NAME** are you thinking?_ The logical part of his mind roared to life. _She participated in lewd acts with **a Malfoy**, of all people, while you were officially still seeing one another! Forgiveness should **not** be on the agenda at all!_

But that was the problem; it _was_ on the agenda. He knew that, sooner or later, she would seek his forgiveness and (with a great deal of yelling and throwing priceless items), he would inevitably give it to her.

And for what? For her to go out and repeat her actions? Mordred, but he was a fool!

But that was what love did to a person, wasn't it? It turned even the most logical men into fools, and the most ruthless, savage people into little more than a puffskein.

Severus sighed. Merlin, he was in far too deep now.

**-?-**

Hermione was an absolute wreck for days to come. It was officially over. She knew it was. Her once chance with her perfect match and she'd blown it completely. She was an idiot, a fool and, above all else, a traitorous wench. She deserved Severus' scorn. She deserved his loathing. She deserved far, far worse, too.

That short encounter in the Headmaster's office had hit her hard. She'd raced from his tower, down countless flights of stairs (then up numerous others), and had eventually come to a complete halt on the Astronomy Tower. The sun had all but set; small hints of its light could still be glimpsed out behind the Forest. And Hermione wept. She'd thrown herself at the large, stone ledge and howled, not caring if someone should stumble upon her. Thankfully, she mused in hindsight, no-one had.

For hours she'd mourned her lost relationship –her lost love- in the darkness, leaning over the edge of the Astronomy Tower, wondering –idly- if jumping off would solve anything. Of course, she was rational enough to know that it wouldn't. However, the thought had crossed her mind and that alone had frightened her witless.

Stumbling backwards, Hermione had resolved then and there to get on with the rest of her life. Wallowing would do her no good now. And suicidal thoughts were to be forever banished from her mind.

She had lost her connection to the man who had become the most important person in her life, that was true, but to think about doing something so…_cowardly_ to escape the pain? She couldn't accept that she'd even done _that_. After all, unlike countless others, her problems were trivial. A broken relationship was _not_ the end of the world, and she was _not_ a drama queen like Lavender or Parvati who probably _would_ seriously consider throwing themselves off the Tower if the loves of their lives left them. But _that_ particular rant was best left for another time…

Resolving to throw herself back into schoolwork to cover her pain, Hermione had left the Tower and trudged back to her quarters, where she spent the majority of the weekend studying furiously for her NEWTs, which were now little over two months away.

**-?-**

Sunday afternoon found Ronald Weasley marching towards Hermione's quarters, intent on finding out exactly what had happened all those weeks ago on the Valentine's Weekend. He'd let it go for a couple of months, assuming that, at some point, someone would fill him in…but now it was nearing April and no-one had said 'boo' to him about it. Which meant that it was, in most likelihood, _very, very bad news_.

Having reached the Head Girl's door, he knocked impatiently on the oak. "Open up, 'Mione. We've got to talk."

"Alright," he heard her rustling about on the other side, "Give me a tic."

When she finally opened her door, he was shocked. In front of him stood a thin, lined, utterly _miserable_ Hermione Granger with red-rimmed eyes and frizzier-than-usual hair. Before he even had the chance to comment, she'd started with; "I'm guessing you've finally been told what happened between Malfoy and I, then."

He was gob-smacked. '_Malfoy and I?'_ The voice in his head repeated. _She can't possibly mean…No. Hermione's not like that. _However, instead of shaking his head and telling her that, no, nobody had told him anything, he waited to hear more.

Taking his silence as acknowledgement of her assumption, she sighed. "I'm honestly surprised you haven't flown off the handle at me just now when I let you in…Or that you didn't immediately track Draco down and hex him within an inch of his life." She paused, then looked panicked. "You _haven't_, have you?"

He shook his head.

Relieved, Hermione sighed again. "Good. Because…it was consensual. And he doesn't deserve to be hurt for something that we both chose to do. I mean," she shrugged and looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, "if you and Hannah had pretty much slept together consensually, you wouldn't deserve to be attacked by her friends…"

Ron could feel his blood beginning to boil. She'd all but fucked Malfoy. Knowing that she'd fancied Snape was bad enough, but having an affair with _Malfoy_? And then another thought hit him; this had happened months ago and everyone had known. Everyone, that was, except him.

Noticing the tell-tale signs of his short-temper, Hermione stopped short, horrified. "You didn't know..."

"No…" His tone was cold and controlled. "But thank you, Hermione, for telling me, your _best friend_, _now_…two months too late!"

"Oh, Ron, I-"

He stood abruptly. "I have to go. I need to think."

"Ron, please, wait…"

"No. I'll talk to you when _I'm_ ready." He turned back and sneered. "Give me a few months."

And with that, he stormed out of her room and out of the Heads' Quarters.

**-?-**

"We really need to sit down as a group and talk this out." Harry said at dinner, noticing for the third night in a row that Hermione was absent.

Draco and Greg shared a look. "Potter," the former began, "it's not that simple, is it?"

The Gryffindor boy frowned. "Why not?"

"She's a woman, Potter. Merlin knows how she'd react if we cornered her and commanded her to talk. Particularly with myself in the equation."

"But-"

"Harry," this time it was Gregory who cut in, "Draco's got a point. She'd flip 'er nut if we forced 'er to sit down and talk to _us_." He set aside his fork and sighed. "Think about it; Draco would be awkward to talk to in 'er position, then there's you an' I who have done nothin' but judge 'er and argue with 'er about the entire situation."

"And me." Ron's voice joined them, as the red-head himself sat down at the Slytherin table with them. "I'm no help either. I wasn't the nicest person to her tonight." He glowered at Draco as he sarcastically added; "Thanks for letting me in on the situation, by the way."

Harry avoided his best friend's gaze. "Actually…" he started, twiddling his napkin around in his lap, "That would be my fault."

Blue eyes widened in surprise. "How?"

"Well," the Boy-Who-Lived swallowed. "I didn't want you to know because she didn't need all of us avoiding her…"

"And you didn't think I'd catch on to the fact that I was the only one out of the loop?"

The other boys averted their eyes as well.

"Oh…_bloody brilliant_."

**-?-**

Severus hated himself for caring that this was the third night in a row that Hermi…_Granger!_ had avoided the Great Hall for dinner, and the seventh meal in a row that she had missed. As he stalked towards the Hospital Wing to collect Sophia, he berated himself for even _noticing_ that the stupid bint was more than likely starving herself.

"We gonna go see Mummy now?" The little girl asked him as they walked out of the Hospital Wing.

He shook his head. "_You_ are going to see your mother. _I_ have other business to attend to."

And, as the words left his lips, he fought his inner revulsion. He was beginning to sound very much like his own father; just another reason as to why he should never contemplate breeding.

The dark-haired child nodded morosely; she knew better than to question him. "Okay, Daddy."

He would not acknowledge the guilt her innocent acquiescence brought forth in him.

Catching sight of Potter and Goyle heading his way, he paused in his stride and waited for them to reach him. "Mister Potter," he pulled the Gryffindor aside, "Please escort Sophia back to Miss Granger. Mister Goyle will collect your child and meet you in the Heads' Commons." His tone left no room for argument.

Both boys nodded. "Yes, sir."

Sophia hugged her Daddy's legs. "Love you, Daddy." She said, her eyes watering at the thought of yet another long week of separation from her idol.

Conscious of the presence of his students, Severus could do little but nod and watch her leave.

**-?-**

Monday morning saw the seventh years assembled in the Great Hall with their 'children'. Again, Hermione was the only one left without a partner. But, this time, it did not bother her. She was pleased that she could finally attend the class without worrying about Severus' presence.

McGonagall took her place at the front of the class and cast a quick _Sonorous_ to magnify her voice. "Students," she began, waiting for the class to settle, "As your NEWTs are now little more than two months away, it has been decided that the practical portion of this subject is to come to an end."

A series of gasps, exhalations of relief, and even a few moans of bereavement followed her statement. She concealed a smile. Every year was the same. Some students would use this experience as an affirmation that they were to be very cautious about starting a family, while others, like Molly Weasley, would go on to have as many children as they could, as soon as they could.

She cleared her throat, bringing the discussions that had begun to a halt. "During Wednesday's allocated double, you will be required to bring your children to class and assemble, in pairs, in a straight line. You will then be administered a _Disillusionment Draught_, and will take part in the counter charm to turn your 'children' back into dolls."

A Hufflepuff's hand flew up in front of her and she nodded, waiting for the question.

"Professor, why do we have to take a _Disillusionment Draught_?"

"It will cut the ties you have formed with your children." The Head of Gryffindor responded, matter-of-factly. "Losing a child –even a faux child- is a pain that no soul should have to experience. As these children are not real, the _Draught_ will ensure that you no longer view them as such. You will, of course, retain your memories of this class, however, your emotions will not be as strong, and you will be able to look back on your time spent with your children with a more logical and rational eye."

She paused and gave the students some time to consider this. Most were nodding, understanding the implications of not taking the potion. Others had turned around to speak to their neighbours, still a little confused. The Head Girl, however, was sitting on her own (excluding the toddler babbling away at her side), sadly observing her friends. Minerva frowned. Something had obviously gone wrong, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Severus Snape's influence was somehow to blame.

Clearing her throat, she reigned the class's attention in again and outlined the requirements for their written assessment, before asking them to line up in their 'families' and prepare for brief interviews with either herself or Poppy Pomfrey, all the while pondering over the Head Girl's current plight.

Things would right themselves sooner or later, she decided, but it couldn't hurt to specifically conduct the interview with Miss Granger herself.

**-?-**

When it finally came for Hermione's interview with Professor McGonagall, Sophia was restless and overtired. Seating herself wearily in front of her Head of House, the Head Girl waited patiently for the questions to begin.

"And what are your thoughts on this experience, Miss Granger?" The older witch asked gently.

Hermione mustered a soft smile. "It has been…interesting." She said diplomatically, while struggling to hold her 'daughter' on her lap. She pointedly ignored the child's whining as she elaborated. "I owe a lot to Professor Snape, though. He was most kind and understanding…and if he hadn't offered to take Sophia on weekends, I most likely would have lost my mind."

Minerva nodded. "Indeed." She marked something down on her assessment sheet, before looking directly at the squirming toddler. "Sophia…" the child looked back, startled that she was being addressed by the lady with the strange way of talking, "Have you had a fun time back at Hogwarts with your Mummy?"

The little girl shrugged. "Sometimes. Was better before Mummy an' Daddy was fighting. I miss kisses. Mummy an' Daddy _always_ kissing 'fore Hogwarts."

Hermione felt her stomach leap into her throat. She was in _so_ much trouble now! And poor Severus would lose his job!

The Professor, however, didn't even bat an eyelid. She smiled indulgently at the child, before turning back to Hermione and stating, "I did warn Professor Dumbledore that implanting a generic set of memories in each child like that might cause difficulties…"

"Oh…" Hermione responded, her heart still beating frantically in shock. "We wondered if that might have been the case. It was ever so hard to come up with a logical answer that we could give her for the sudden end of our supposed intimacy."

"And what did you tell her?" McGonagall asked, her pen poised over her notebook.

The younger Gryffindor averted her eyes, her cheeks aflame, "That sometimes Mummies and Daddies take breaks from kissing and cuddling."

The Professor 'hmm'ed and scribbled another note on her page. Once done, she looked back up at her student. "That should be all, Miss Granger. We'll be running diagnostic tests on the children on Wednesday's lesson, though all appears to be in order." Her visage softened as she leant forward. "I knew you'd do well, my dear. Even in the terrible position you found yourself in."

Hermione blushed and smiled gently and made to stand. "Thank you, Professor. It has been…trying, but I am proud of my achievements."

As she turned to leave, her daughter's hand in her own, the older woman added, "And if you ever feel the need to speak to someone…about anything at all…my door is always open."

"Thank you again, Professor. I will keep it in mind."

**-?-**

When she returned to her rooms that evening, Hermione found a note penned in a familiar scrawl:

_For your continued absence from your designated lessons, the Headmaster has commissioned me to punish you as I see fit. We will continue your Friday evening detentions for the rest of the school year. I do not need to remind you of the consequences should you choose to ignore this missive. _

_S. Snape._

She sighed and, with a swift wave of her wand, incinerated it. She would, naturally, go to her detention that coming Friday, but the brutal destruction of the message was therapeutic.

**-?-**

Wednesday passed in a bit of a blur for most of the seventh years. None could grieve the 'children' for whom they no longer felt any emotional attachment, though each did, in fact, feel as though something was missing from their day-to-day lives. And there was. They no longer had to take a child to and from the temporary childcare facility. They no longer had to set aside countless hours of leisure, study and even sleep time to feed, calm, bathe or play with a small child. They were once again 'normal' seventh years, with countless hours to…devote to the studying for their NEWTs.

Harry and Greg, along with countless other couples, spent Wednesday looking forward to some quality 'alone time' without the presence of a child. Merlin only knew how long it had been since they'd had a chance to enjoy in the pleasures of one another's bodies, without the fear of psychologically scarring their 'son'.

Others, like Draco and Ron, were simply looking forward to enjoying the rest of the school year with a complete 8 hours of sleep every night.

Hermione, however, was relatively unfazed by the sudden shift in routine. It made no difference whether she would be getting a proper night's sleep or not; by Friday her life might as well have been forfeit.

And so it was, then, that on Friday evening, when most of the seventh years were officially enjoying their freedom, Hermione found herself outside the Potions classroom. She knocked and waited for her former lover to bark his usual 'enter' before opening the door.

When she did so, she was shocked to find _both_ Potions Professors in the classroom, looking a little tussled. Swallowing her pain, she silently awaited her instructions.

The Head Girl spent the rest of the night avoiding Severus' gaze and concentrating on completing the tasks he had assigned in absolute silence. Even when the Matthews woman wished 'SevvieWevvie' a gushy goodbye, she held her tongue, choosing, instead, to scrub extra viciously at the stubborn goo on the desk in front of her.

At midnight she was finally released. She made her way back to her quarters numbly, in utter disbelief of what she had seen. After all, while Severus would have been hurt by her actions, she could not bring herself to accept the notion that he would run directly into the arms of that…that…_hussy_.

No matter how rational she tried to be, Hermione couldn't help the grief that overwhelmed her as her head hit the pillow, and she cried herself to sleep with images of Severus Snape and Siobhan Matthews playing on her mind.

**-?-**

"Hey, are you alright?" Harry asked the next morning, noticing how worn and fragile his best friend looked as she exited her room.

She shook her head, not trusting herself to maintain control of her emotions. And that was all it took for The Boy Who Lived to practically leap over the sofa and draw her into his embrace. She hugged him back, forgetting all about their recent feud, revelling in his warmth.

"I'm sorry…" she mumbled into his robes. "For all of this…"

"Hey," he soothed, rubbing her back, merely glad that she wasn't sobbing hysterically, "It's okay. Don't apologise. We've all been gits…What with the stress of raising kids and all..."

Hermione shook her head as she pulled away. "Yes…but you were only looking out for me and I…I pushed you away…I did horrible things…I-"

"Well, consider yourself forgiven, then, Granger, and we'll work on getting on with fixing it properly."

She looked across the room, startled by the frank, new voice. "Oh, Malfoy, I…I didn't see you there." In fact, she hadn't seen any of her friends seated comfortably in the small common room. She had only seen Harry when she'd opened her door. She'd expected Greg to be lurking about somewhere, but not Draco and Ron also.

"'Course you didn't." The Head Boy responded when the blond was suddenly overwhelmed by the awkwardness of the situation. "Now, come an' sit down an' we'll order you up some breakfast. You 'aven't been eatin' properly this last week or so and emaciated is not a look which suits you."

She managed a wry smile at his concern and complied, taking the spare seat at the end of the sofa, leaving room for Harry to sit comfortably next to his boyfriend.

"I truly am sorry." She said, when the silence felt oppressive. "For pretty much everything that's happened."

"Yeah, well, so are we." Ron supplied, earning nods of agreement from the others. "But as ferret-features said, you're forgiven, and we'll assume that we're forgiven, so all that's left, really, is fixin' everything up right and proper."

Hermione felt tears in her eyes at the compassion and patience her friends were affording her and she batted them away as best as she could. "Thank you..." And that was the last they spoke of it before getting tucked in to the large breakfast that Goyle had ordered.

**-?-**

In Potions the next week, Greg and Draco were putting a secret plan into action. One that nobody –not even Harry- knew about, because they were certain the others would not approve. But it was clear to them, and to anyone who cared to notice, that both their Potions Master and their Head Girl were miserable without each other. And, because Draco felt that his involvement had seen that things had gone awry so terribly, he had come up with a wicked (not entirely ethical) plan to force the two back together.

"So…" the blond began at a whisper, stealing a glance in the Professor's direction, "What are you doin' about Granger, then?"

Greg, subtly noting Snape's newfound attention on their workstation, hissed back angrily; "This is _not_ the place to discuss it, or didn't you learn that last time?"

Draco forced a scowl. "Look, I'm just worried about the chit, is all. She's not in the right state to be going through any of this alone."

Chopping a root fiercely, it was clear to any observer that the Head Boy was trying his hardest to maintain his calm. He stole another glance in the Potions Master's direction before responding. "Well it's not _my_ place to do anythin', is it? How am I supposed to convince her that she _needs_ to eat more?"

"But it's no good for her health if she doesn't. Not to mention the b-"

"-Are you out of your sodding mind, Malfoy? This is _not_ a smart place to mention any of it. _Especially _that." Greg moved his head in Snape's direction, knowing that the older wizard would notice it. "So drop it."

They were, of course, talking about Hermione's dramatic loss of weight, and the fact that it wouldn't be right for her to look so gaunt at the Graduation Ball. However, both boys knew that their Professor would read something else entirely out of their discussion, and they hoped that he would take matters into his own hands from there.

If not, they would just have to put Phase Two of their master plan into action…

* * *

A/N- Right, well, I am sorry to say that I will miss Sophia and Matty…Don't worry, there will be mentions to them in future chapters –possibly a flashback or two if I decide to get all artsy on you…

As I said, _Dafina_, thank you for the Severus/Siobhan suggestion…LOL I know you wanted me to avoid a situation like the one I am currently plotting, but I love to stir things up and that, my dear, was a fantastic way to do it (though you'll notice that I didn't actually pair them together because that would be far too cruel of me…).

And _Lena Andromeda Black_…Thank you for the seeds of doubt as to whether Hermione was pregnant or not. LOL. Of course, we all know she's not (I'm trying my very best to avoid being predictable) but Severus doesn't. Mwahahaha.

These two plans alone are sneaky, when they are being pulled off by separate parties at the same time? Well, I'll leave you to think of all the crazy things that might just go wrong…

Please leave comments! I adore each and every one!

Ciao for now.


	10. Feel

A/N – I know, I know…This one's late as well. Uni was a bitch, work is evil and real life is also interfering with fic. LOL. On a side note, if you want to know more about me and have MySpace the link to my MySpace profile can be found at the bottom of my author profile. Check it out sometime. And feel free to drop me a line and add me as a friend if you like…Though, be warned, my penname here at FFN should never be mentioned on myspace, for fear of people I know and speak to on a daily basis reading my fics…

* * *

Severus spent the rest of the week in an almost frantic state of mind. From what he'd gathered from Goyle and Malfoy's hushed conversations in Potions, Hermione was carrying his child. He was certain it was his as she had spent the entirety of the holidays with him, and he knew, from Malfoy's own admission, that she hadn't completely given herself to any other man, due to the castle's wards remaining firm. Thus, there was only one possible candidate – Him!

Merlin, he wasn't ready to be a father.

And, furthermore, _she_ wasn't ready to be a mother! She was barely nineteen, for pity's sake! Little more than a child herself!

An avalanche of questions overwhelmed him as he came to grips with the revelation, the most prominent of which being: how long had she known?

Was her behaviour with Malfoy somehow caused by his own inability to acknowledge her while she grappled alone with the knowledge that she was pregnant? If that was the case, then he certainly couldn't allow her to take all the blame for her indiscretion…He should have noticed…He should have seen the signs! She'd been moody, her emotions had been going haywire, she'd been clingier than usual…And he'd essentially told her that their relationship was a mistake. That he didn't need her any longer.

Which, naturally, hadn't been his intention at all. She was the best thing to ever happen to him (if one could excuse the cliché) and he'd panicked.

But now, with the knowledge that she was expecting his child, he knew he had to swallow his pride and apologise. He owed it to her, and to his unborn child, to provide the best possible future for them as a family, and there was no way to do that without mending their broken relationship first.

So, all he had to do was wait until Friday evening, when he could corner her on her own and have a proper discussion. They needed to set things right.

**-?-**

By the time Friday evening came around, Hermione was looking for any and every excuse to avoid going to her detention. It wasn't that she was afraid of facing Severus and the consequences of her actions, but rather the very thought that the awful Matthews woman would be there again. Just the thought of Severus and that wench together made her nauseous. If she were to see them together again, she wasn't certain she'd be able to hold her tongue…or her dinner.

"You'd best 'urry if you don't want to make 'im even angrier." Greg said, shaking her from her reverie.

"Can't someone tell him that I've died or something?" She moaned. "I'm certain _that_ would please him."

She missed the look Draco and Greg shared.

"I seriously doubt it, Granger." The former replied, ushering her to the door. "Now get going! The sooner you arrive, the easier he'll be to get along with."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, right."

Hermione smiled weakly, "My thoughts exactly."

**-?-**

Down in the Dungeons, Severus was trying his very best to remove Siobhan Matthews from his classroom. In his panicked state, he'd completely forgotten about his bid to make Hermione believe that he, too, had moved on with someone despicable, and now the bint wouldn't leave him alone.

"Come on, SevvieWevvie, just one more? Like last week?"

He scowled; inviting her to assist him with his brewing had been the largest lapse of his judgement to date. "No. I have a detention to supervise and your presence is not required."

"Ohh," she grinned wickedly. "Is it the high and mighty Head Girl again?" When he refused to respond, she cackled. "It is! Oh, Sevvie, you _must_ let me stay! The look on her face last week was _priceless_."

"I do not want you in my classroom, Siobhan."

She pouted. "But we had such _fun_ last week."

His eyes widened incredulously. "Fun?" He echoed, casting his mind back to the previous Friday evening. "You _ruined_ an experimental potion I had been working on for _weeks_, and you damn near exploded my best cauldron! It was not _fun_ by any means."

"But, Sev-"

"And I have told you _numerous times_ to _never_ call me such _hideous_ pet names! Now get _out_ of my sight!"

He threw a jar of leeches at the nearest wall to illustrate his point and took pleasure out of seeing her flinch.

"NOW!" He bellowed, and smirked to himself as she fled from the room as fast as her skinny legs would carry her.

"Trouble in paradise?"

He spun around to the doorway to face Hermione, noting, absently, that she looked somewhat green around the gills.

"That is none of your concern."

She shrugged. Honestly, she hadn't meant to comment, but couldn't help herself when the opportunity presented itself. "Where do I need to begin tonight, Sir?"

Though he had originally planned to talk to her like any other concerned soon-to-be-father would, he was too riled up to even contemplate it, and waved absently at the broken jar of leeches he had thrown. "Clean that up –without magic- then proceed to the cauldrons again."

"Yes, Sir."

Those were the last words they exchanged for the evening. Hermione worked steadfastly, ignoring his presence to the best of her ability. Severus, on the other hand, couldn't tear his eyes away from her, and fought his concern every time she moaned in pain or rubbed at aching muscles. At a quarter to twelve he released her from her duties and dismissed her from his classroom with strict orders to come directly after dinner the next week.

Once in his own quarters he dropped down onto the couch with a sigh. Next week, he decided, he _would_ set things right.

**-?-**

Hermione sighed as she curled up in bed. She'd arrived at her detention just in time to hear Severus shout and to see her other Potions professor dart down the hall. She wondered, idly, whether he'd grown tired of her, too. Not that it would be hard to do with _that_ woman…but it was becoming quite clear that Severus Snape was far less interested in maintaining a relationship than he first made out to be.

Still, as she had noted many months earlier, _anything_ was better than the thought of _that_ wench having him! Hermione could reconcile herself with the thought of her former lover finding solace in another witch's embrace, but _never_ with Siobhan Matthews. So, though she'd felt ill when she'd seen them together, she couldn't help but feel awfully smug at the evidence that they were 'on the rocks'.

_That doesn't mean they won't make up, Hermione._ A voice in her head reminded her. _And it **has** been said that making up is half the fun…_

As if to accompany the notion, lewd images of Severus Snape and Siobhan Matthews filtered through her mind, and she felt ill again.

_Urgh!_ She thought, her eyes snapping shut.

Why did they haunt her even in her private time? Why couldn't she just accept that it was over? Why did she have to drive herself insane with the very _thought_ of them? It was just too much.

Grumbling in annoyance, she summoned her latest text book on Ancient Runes and forced herself to study. After all, if she wasn't going to be able to sleep, the least she could do would be to use her time constructively…

**-?-**

Noticing that Hermione was in no better shape that weekend, Greg and Draco made the decision to put Phase Two of their scheme into action. This next phase was even more cunning –and, thus, even more immoral- than the one preceding it. But desperate times called for desperate measures…and, if nothing else, it would provide them with stories with which to amuse their grandchildren in decades to come.

**-?-**

At breakfast on Monday morning, Severus scowled as Hermione clamped a hand to her mouth and raced out of the Great Hall. It seemed that she was still suffering from bouts of morning sickness. He had done his maths (and his research) that weekend; she had to be in her second trimester by now. Morning sickness generally faded after the first. Some unlucky carriers experienced it in the following months, though in the Wizarding World it was safe to seek medicinal potions after the third month should the sickness continue…

Clearly, though, Hermione wasn't seeking any medical attention, most likely for fear of losing her Head Girl position or, worse, having to reveal the identity of the child's father.

_Foolish girl._ He internally seethed. She was putting both herself _and their child_ in danger by not going to a Mediwitch! Thankfully, though, the Easter Holidays would begin at the end of the week, and he would be able to corner and subsequently talk some sense into her then.

**-?-**

Goyle felt just a _little_ guilty for lacing Hermione's breakfast with a Vomiting Vapour (a Weasley twin invention), but it had been worth it to see Snape barely restrain himself from racing after her in concern. The next step, however, was a little trickier…He had to somehow plant a seed of doubt in her own mind, so that when Snape finally broke and confronted her, the entire plan wouldn't blow up in his face and bring them both seeking vengeance.

"Oi, Granger, you feelin' alright?" He asked cautiously as she dropped down beside him at lunch. "You looked a bit green this mornin'…"

She crinkled her nose, remembering her mad rush to the nearest restroom. "Don't remind me, Greg…I think it was just something I ate…"

He nodded in acceptance. "Well then," he started, piling her plate with food, "Best you get your fill now…Can't have you wastin' away on us…"

As she rolled her eyes, he worked a small charm over her goblet which would hopefully allow her to 'skip' her next period, furthering her suspicions. If all went well, she'd be running directly to Snape in no time…

**-?-**

Hermione scowled at the mirror as she washed her face. For the last week or so she'd been feeling run down and had thrown up every other day; sometimes in the morning, other times at night. It was beginning to drive her mad with frustration. She was relatively certain it was stress causing her body to react so horribly, and made a pact with herself to relax over the upcoming Easter break. No NEWT studies…nothing. Just some private time for rest and relaxation. However, she had to survive the rest of the day first, which included detention with Severus.

"Mornin'," Greg greeted from the sofa, "Feelin' any better today?"

She shook her head and he frowned.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were up the duff, what with the tossin' your breakfast and all…"

She snorted derisively. "It's a good thing you know better then, isn't it?"

He smiled and nodded, having successfully just planted the seeds of doubt in her mind. "Most certainly." He glanced at the clock and rose from his seat. "Ready to face the day, then?"

**-?-**

By the time her detention rolled around, Hermione was a nervous wreck. She'd laughed Greg's comment off that morning, but, more and more, she was beginning to second guess her body. It was true that she had missed her period this last cycle, though she'd put it down to stress, and then there was the illness and the constant tiredness…Merlin, but it didn't make sense! Shouldn't these symptoms have shown themselves _months_ ago?

Having surreptitiously consulted her Sexual Education text over lunch, she'd realised that there was no real 'formula' for the symptoms. So erratic was the pattern that some young men and women never even _realised_ they were pregnant until it was time to give birth…though that was a very small statistic, and the cynic in Hermione was almost certain that some of them just claimed ignorance to avoid further attacks from their families...

However, all cynicism aside, Hermione was currently panicking. She'd need to brew a potion, of course, to confirm her suspicions, but requesting the ingredients from her ex-lover and possible soon-to-be father of her child was not an option. Nor was stealing them.

She would simply have to wait until the morning and get permission to visit Hogsmeade. After all, she was planning on staying at Hogwarts for the Easter break, it shouldn't be too difficult to convince Professor McGonagall to let her go while everyone else headed to the station.

But she had to make it through this detention first. Which would be easier said than done.

**-?-**

It was Friday night and, once again, Severus found himself having to forcefully remove Siobhan Matthews from his classroom. She seemed intent on making Hermione as uncomfortable as possible upon her arrival, and he was having none of it.

"…But, Sevvy, I want to stay and help! Merlin only knows how terribly _boring_ detentions are to supervise! I can make it…_fun_." She winked suggestively.

Swallowing his revulsion at the simple act, Severus scowled. "Damn it, Woman, this is the _last time_ I will tell you _not_ to refer to me with your blasted pet names!" At her pout he glowered, "And my answer remains the same; you are _not_ welcome during Miss Granger's detention."

"But Sev-" he shot her a warning glance and she quickly changed tact, "-erus, _please_, can't you just see how _entertaining_ upsetting the little bint would be? She's clearly attracted to you…It's amusing to see her flare up with jealousy."

_If you only knew,_ he mused, before responding, "That _little bint_, as you so _maturely_ phrased it, is a _student_, Siobhan. Merely speaking of her like that is an insult to the profession you have chosen to pursue. And, as I have stated before, Miss Granger's intellect is damn near unrivalled, even by myself. To refer to her with such base terms further illustrates the reasons behind my refusal to allow you to remain here. The girl has had a trying year and you choose only to exacerbate it; I will not allow you to behave so childishly in _my_ classroom."

She gaped at him. "You're defending the little tart! I don't believe it…_You're_ interested in _her_, too!"

"You speak out of turn, Siobhan." His tone was near lethal. "And, as per usual, you are spouting absolute drivel! I am doing my job as a _teacher_ and am demanding that a student under my care is treated with the respect she deserves. We are not in this school to parade ourselves about them in a game of power relations; we are here to guide these young adults through their schooling years – something _you_ clearly do not comprehend."

Hermione paused outside the door to the Potions classroom and held her breath. She hadn't heard Severus speak so passionately in what felt like eons, and it surprised her that it was his profession which he was defending so vehemently. She peered around the corner to catch the end of his tirade:

"…If _anyone_ is the 'tart' here, Matthews, it is most undeniably _you._" He concluded, red spots of anger firmly situated above his cheekbones.

Hermione noted that, for maximum effect on the horrid woman's humiliation, _now_ would be the perfect moment to enter the classroom. So, straightening her uniform and plastering a concerned look upon her face, she cautiously knocked on the door frame.

"Forgive me for intruding, Sir, but the door was open…" She played up her naivety and innocence for the purpose of irritating Matthews even more. "I hope I haven't interrupted anything important?"

"Of course you have, you nosey little brat!" The woman in question hissed, while Severus scowled.

"Silence!" He snapped, before turning back to Hermione. She looked healthier than he'd seen her all week, and his spirits rose slightly. Understanding what she was scheming, he smirked and followed along with her ploy, "You have not interrupted anything important, Miss Granger. Professor Matthews was just leaving, and your detention was scheduled to start in a minute at any rate."

Her eyes glittered with amusement. _Well done, Severus_, she acknowledged with a nod. "Yes, Sir."

It was obvious that Siobhan Matthews was having a difficult time reigning in her temper. She turned on Hermione and glared, "I _will_ find evidence that the two of you-" here she gestured wildly between them "-are partaking in an illegal relationship, and I look forward to seeing you both thrown out of this school!"

The Potions Master and his detained student shared a look that spoke volumes about their companion's sanity (or, rather, the lack thereof) and the former narrowed his gaze, "I've already warned you about the consequences of threatening your students, Professor Matthews, and I suggest you consider them as you make your way out of my classroom." And on that note, he spun deftly on his heel and addressed Hermione, "Now, Miss Granger, I believe tonight you shall sort the ingredients cupboard…"

Having been thoroughly dismissed, Siobhan glowered at Hermione and exited the room with a huff, resolved to humiliate the Head Girl and the Potions Master before the end of the school year.

Absolutely certain that Matthews was out of earshot, Severus' instructions trailed off and he frowned at his detainee. "Just what, pray tell, were you thinking when you decided to provoke a Professor?"

"I'm sorry?" Hermione raised an incredulous eyebrow. "It seemed to me that, if I hadn't intervened, the two of you would still be bickering…"

She realised, as the words left her lips, that antagonising Severus Snape, like she would Harry and Ron, was, perhaps, a _very_ bad idea.

Obsidian eyes blinked back at her. "You are skating on very thin ice, Granger, so I advise you to avoid fuelling my ire."

Despite the fact that Hermione knew she should keep her mouth shut, she found herself on the defensive. "I see, so I just imagined you struggling to kick Professor Matthews out of this room, then…"

Severus advanced upon her – the very picture of danger – until he'd backed her up against the nearest wall. "How _dare_ you speak to me-"

"Oh, for Merlin's _sake_, Severus!" She cut him off, her own eyes blazing, "If you think this-" she gestured at his intimidating stance "-scares me these days, you're sorely mistaken." Sighing, she allowed her features to soften. "I'm sorry my actions this evening were unwarranted, but that cow had it coming. Besides," she smirked, "you clearly enjoyed it…"

"Whether I found myself absorbed in the moment or not is not your concern. You provoked a member of the staff, and, as such, have earned yourself more detentions following the Easter Break."

The Head Girl could hardly believe what she was hearing. She had assisted him and _this_ was the thanks she got? "Severus, you and I both know that is entirely unfair!"

"Twenty points for your complete lack of respect for a Professor."

She stared back, unable to speak. Any resolve to tell him about her suspected condition was put on the backburner as her anger got the better of her. "I'm sorry, _Professor_. Maybe I should just go ahead and start sorting those ingredients before I do something I'll _really_ regret?"

Severus scowled, now incredibly incensed. "I think not. No; tonight you will be on your hands and knees, scrubbing the floor with a Muggle toothbrush!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. He was being unreasonable and cruel! Even more so than usual! Realising that arguing with him would only get her into more trouble, she reigned in her temper and nodded. "Yes, _Professor_."

**-?-**

Having sent the Head Girl back to her quarters after curfew, Severus sat in his own living area nursing a snifter of firewhiskey and musing over how easily the detention had gotten out of hand. He knew his temper was namely to blame, and he felt –as he usually felt- an enormous sense of guilt. Hermione was pregnant with his child and he'd allowed his temper to cloud his judgement, so much so that he had forced her to do backbreaking labour for hours on end, which would definitely not be good for her health, nor the child's.

With a sigh, he set aside his glass and massaged his temples. How on earth was he going to be an adequate father if he couldn't even treat Hermione with a modicum of respect? Even more important still – would she, given the way he had treated her, even allow him the opportunity to know his child? Not unless he changed his behaviour.

_Then I must apologise_, he decided,_ I will swallow my blasted pride and treat the mother of my child as she should be treated._

He knew, of course, that it would be easier said (or, rather, thought) than done, but he would stand by his word as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

Naturally, that would be sooner than he'd anticipated.

**-?-**

"But, Professor, I won't be long in Hogsmeade…" Hermione pleaded with the Head of Gryffindor the next morning after breakfast, "I just have to pick up a book and-"

"I've said no, Miss Granger." McGonagall's stern brogue cut in to her pleas, "It is still far too dangerous to allow any students to visit the village unsupervised. Have you considered placing an owl order?"

Yes, the Head Girl had considered it, but refused to order her ingredients via owl on the off chance that they were intercepted or tampered with. However, it was clear that she would be getting nowhere with her Head of House and chose to go about attaining the ingredients some other way. Plastering a self-depricating smile on her face, she hit her forehead and sighed. "Oh, how silly of me! Forgive me, Professor McGonagall, I haven't been thinking clearly...I'll go and send that owl now." Sparing the Professor one last glance she scampered down the hall, only to run straight into the Headmaster.

"Ah, Miss Granger, just the young soul I've been hoping to see…"

**-?-**

"Absolutely not!" Hermione and Severus cried out in unison, having been shepherded into Dumbledore's office under the pretence of making certain their relationship was 'on the mend'. Once seated and obligated, through cups of tea, to stay, the old man had sprung his new 'request' upon them – to spend the Easter holidays together again, preferably at Snape Manor once more because he felt that they 'both deserve some fresh air away from this silly old castle'.

"Headmaster," Snape was the first to recover from the not-so-pleasant surprise, "I beseech you…Allow me at least one holiday to myself…"

Albus was hearing none of it. He waved Severus's request away as though it were a mosquito. "Nonsense, my boy…You need the company." He glanced sideways at Hermione. "You both do."

The Potions Master was immediately alert. Did the old coot know something about the Head Girl's condition? Was he, Severus, somehow implicated? No; if that was the case he would have been sacked by now…so what on earth was going on?

Hermione chose that moment to voice her own opinion. "Professor Dumbledore…I appreciate the sentiment, but I do feel that Professor Snape deserves some alone time…And I enjoy being on my own. It allows me time to study. Besides, there are other students remaining at the school…"

"First and second years namely, my dear girl. Nobody who you can honestly say will provide adequate social stimulation for you…" The Headmaster's eyes were kind as he spoke. "I would not have a clear conscience if I allowed you to stay here practically on your own…"

Snape's chair flew backwards as he jumped up in anger. "Then you must suffer with a guilty conscience, Albus, because I refuse!"

With a handy bit of wandless magic, the chair resumed its rightful place in front of the desk, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts gestured calmly for Severus to take his seat again. "Severus, you can not refuse…Hermione's parents have already expressed their delight at the news, as they are, sadly, at another conference abroad. They were most pleased she wouldn't be…how did Mrs Granger put it?...Ah, yes, 'trapped in a lonely old castle with only books for company'…" He smiled and reached for his tea. "They were even more pleased to hear that Hermione would be in your capable hands. It seems our Miss Granger has expressed her high esteem for you for years…"

The girl in question was blushing furiously, while Severus glowered into his tea. There was no avoiding it – they would be alone, in his Manor, for two weeks. The cogs in his brain started to turn. Surely he could use the situation to his advantage? Allow Hermione to come to him with her dilemma, rather than forcing himself to confront her…Perhaps even rebuild their friendship, if nothing else…

With a melodramatic sigh, he rose from his seat and stared down at his employer. "Fine." He spat, before turning to face Hermione. Features softening slightly, he nodded at her. "You'd best pack your belongings, there is nothing we can do to remedy this situation. I expect you in the Entrance Hall in no more than an hour."

Hermione sat in a stunned silence as he swept out of the office. Somehow she knew this Easter would not be one to forget in a hurry.

**-?-**

An hour later found Hermione and Severus climbing into a carriage to take them to the train station. The atmosphere between them was thick with tension, though neither of them spoke a word. At the station, they found a secluded carriage on the Express and continued on in silence. When they were a quarter of an hour away from Central Station, Severus cleared his throat.

Hermione looked at him expectantly.

"It is about time to make ourselves appear more Muggle."

She rolled her eyes and removed her robe, having thought ahead and worn a complete Muggle outfit beneath it. Meeting his gaze, she raised an eyebrow. "Is this satisfactory, _Professor_?"

He winced at her tone and tore his gaze away. It wouldn't do to be caught staring at her stomach, after all. "It will suffice, yes."

"And what about you, _Sir_?" She asked sweetly, deliberately giving him the once-over. "Don't you need to get into Muggle attire?"

Taking a deep breath, he, too, removed his robe to reveal Muggle clothing. Smirking, he cocked his head to the side. "Is this satisfactory, Miss Granger?" He mocked.

Feeling a blush rise up to her cheeks, Hermione averted her gaze. She hated herself for allowing him to affect her so. It had been months, and _still_ the sight of him undressing before her (if only to remove a robe) induced a lusty throb in her body.

Mentally berating himself for doing exactly what he'd told himself he was to avoid, Severus sighed. "Hermione, I apologise…"

"What?" The use of her name startled her out of her reverie. She blinked back at him. "What in Merlin's name are you playing at?"

"I apologise for my behaviour these last few months. I admit I haven't been the man I led you to believe I could be…"

_Dear Merlin, he's talking in riddles!_ Hermione frowned. "No, you haven't. But I also told you that I wasn't expecting anything extravagant. All I asked was that you treat me as an equal…and the second we were back in that school you treated me as little better than a first year…"

He opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut again. The phrase 'I was afraid and panicked' seemed far too juvenile for his liking. Having hesitated, he tried again; "I realise my behaviour was out of line, and I can offer no plausible excuse for it. I know that my apologies hardly suffice, though they are all I can truly give you at this point in time."

The Head Girl considered his words and his countenance. He genuinely appeared remorseful. _And_ he had avoided the opportunity to throw her own behaviour (namely her actions with Malfoy) back at her.

_But that doesn't mean anything_. The voice of reason spoke up in her mind. _He **was** a double agent, Hermione. And has openly admitted his ability to fool others is well polished. _

Though she knew this was true, Hermione couldn't help but feel that, if nothing else, he deserved to be heard, perhaps even given another chance. Merlin only knew how horrid she'd felt when she thought her friends would never speak to her again.

Eyes bright with emotion, she offered him a small smile. "If that's the case, Severus, then I feel I should apologise as well. I should have handled the situation more maturely…and I should never have abused your trust by turning to Malfoy at Valentine's…" Her cheeks were scarlet but she ploughed on. "It doesn't make it right, I know, but I have missed you. On many, many levels…"

Severus felt his blood boil at the reminder of her betrayal, but forced himself to remember his vow from the previous evening. He _would_ fix his relationship with Hermione Granger, and forgiving her of past indiscretions (which he vaguely acknowledged he had pushed her towards) would be the first of many steps towards a real reconciliation. He owed it to her and, more importantly, to their child. Swallowing his ire, he met her gaze and found warmth, insecurity, love and, above all, hope.

"And I," he admitted softly, "have missed you, as well."

* * *

**A/N-** Right, this is perhaps one of the shortest chapters to date, and, while I had more planned for it, it felt right to leave it here. The other planned scenes will be added on to the next chapter. And don't fret: I promise Sophia has not been forgotten just yet. I had meant to deal with Severus' issues surrounding her absence in this chapter, but it just didn't seem to fit as I'd hoped it would.

Anywho, I hope it was an enjoyable chapter. I thought you deserved a little speck of fluff as a reward for your patience and wonderful feedback. Though I do wonder how Severus will react when he realises that Hermione is not actually pregnant…((Grin))

And, as usual, if you have suggestions do not hesitate to offer them! As you may have noticed, I do have a tendency to run off with a few of them if I feel they work better than my original plan…But, yes, I'm rambling. Please review!


	11. Love and Attraction

**A/N**- Right, well, it's taken longer than I thought it would…namely because another plotbunny leapt into my head and demanded I start writing another fic. The story in question is now up for your viewing pleasure, and is titled _Close To You And More_. I know, shameless plug, but I am relatively pleased with how well it's coming along so far, and suggest that you give it a squiz…and a review or ten. ((Grins)) And now, onto chapter 11…which is full of Fluff and Angst. I shall call it…FLANGST!

PS – _MAJOR_ thanks go to _Dafina_ for her AMAZING insight and the fantastic idea which spurned the most dramatic/angst-ridden part of this chapter. Without you, _Dafina_, I really think I would have been lost…She is a goddess and I highly recommend reading her fantastic stories…but only after you've read and reviewed this chapter. ((Grins again))

* * *

**Chapter 11 - Love and Attraction**

The rest of the journey to Snape Manor was spent in quiet contemplation. Hermione, for her part, was torn. On one hand, she was glad to be back on civil terms with Severus, but, on the other, she worried whether his newfound care and understanding would wane again upon their return to Hogwarts. Though she realised that he was and would always be, first and foremost, a gigantic git, she didn't think she could survive another round of emotional manipulation.

Severus was also worried about his tendency to hex first and ask questions later. He knew he was a prickly person, but he wanted to do this _right_...or, rather, with respect for Hermione and his unborn child. He knew that this time he couldn't afford to allow his paranoia to ruin everything between them, which meant that he would have to be completely honest with her from the get go. Merlin, but that seemed so daunting!

"It's just as I remember it," Hermione mused upon their arrival, jolting him from his musings.

He offered her a small smirk. "Did you believe it would suddenly crumble in your absence?"

She grinned at him. "Naturally."

"Typical Gryffindor." He rolled his eyes as he collected their belongings and paid the driver of their carriage. "So arrogant."

Hermione pouted in mock petulance. "Now, Severus, really…It's not _just_ a Gryffindor trait. In fact, if we were to be completely honest with one another, it's easy to see that I developed the trait after spending so much time with _you_."

He chuckled at that. "That might be true…but only due to the fact that I fed that ego of yours far too often."

Shaking her head, she started down the driveway. "You're impossible." She informed him, her tone light and friendly.

"I have never denied it." He replied, easily catching up to her.

Unable to formulate a response, she merely laughed and fell into stride with him. After a minute of silence, she sighed. "I've missed this."

He glanced down at her. "_This_?"

"_This_," she gestured between them, "Us. Just…bantering and so forth. Being comfortable with you, I guess."

"Indeed." He focused on the Manor once more. "I must confess…I had missed _this_, as well."

She smiled and tentatively linked her arm in his. "I'm glad."

**-?-**

It was almost too easy, she mused later that evening, just how rapidly they'd fallen back into old patterns. No more was spoken about their rift, nor her moment of insanity with Malfoy, and, for the first time in months, Hermione felt comfortable in her own skin again. It irked her, though, that she'd had to rely on her association with Severus for that to occur. After all, she'd always considered herself an independent woman, enlightened by feminist theory and empowered by her own strength as an individual. And yet, all that had been unravelled by _him_ and she hadn't been able to fix it on her own. She'd needed _him_ to make it all better.

Sprawling out on the bed in the main bedroom, she sighed. _But is that so terrible?_ She asked herself. _I am still strong and independent…I just love him terribly. And, though it is incredibly cheesy, they do say that love can be debilitating… _She frowned. _And if I am…er…expecting, then it is to be anticipated that my hormones and emotions and all that will be a bit out of whack…_

"Hermione?" His voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Are you well?"

She glanced up at him as he seated himself beside her. "Don't I look it?"

"You look a little pale, actually…"

"Oh," she blushed, "I've been a bit under the weather lately. It's nothing."

"Nonsense. I am a Potions Master. I can brew treatments for just about _anything_." He stared into her eyes, pointedly. "What ails you?"

For one fleeting moment, she felt like confessing her suspicions to him, but decided against it. They were, after all, only just working through their issues. She didn't want to make him feel pressured into rekindling their relationship simply because she might be carrying his child. She'd rather they sorted things out because he wanted to, not because he felt he _had_ to.

Unbeknownst to her, though, Draco and Greg had seen to it that it would be a little of both columns A and B.

"Oh, nothing, really. Just a little stomach bug. It's practically gone." Well it wasn't _really_ a lie, now, was it?

He furrowed his brow, seemingly prepared to argue with her, but said nothing. "If you change your mind-"

"I'll let you know, I promise."

"Hmm."

**-?-**

Hermione woke the next morning to the now familiar urge to lose the previous night's dinner. (Greg had placed a couple of slow-acting charms on her nightgown earlier that week, as it had been getting increasingly difficult to lace her drinks at meal times.) She raced to the bathroom and knelt in front of the loo, heaving with all her might.

"Hermione?" Severus was crouching by her side in an instant. "For Merlin's sake, Woman, this is not 'nothing'. You will allow me to treat you this instant!"

She moaned, though neither of them was certain whether it was assent or not. He summoned a cold cloth and a small vial of an anti-nausea draught, which she accepted with trepidation. If she _was_ indeed pregnant, this might harm the baby. But she couldn't ask her ex-lover whether it was safe for pregnant witches to imbibe, because that would certainly give her secret away. Hoping against hope that it would be fine, she downed the contents of the vial in one gulp and made a face at the taste.

Severus scowled. She hadn't even asked him if the potion was safe for their child! It seemed she was set on keeping the news from him; so determined, in fact, that she would risk the baby's safety to keep the secret safe. He resolved not to push her, though. She would turn to him when she was ready.

"Thank you," she murmured, wiping her face with the cloth.

"You're welcome." He replied, pushing himself to his feet. "I will leave you to shower and dress and will meet you in the kitchen for breakfast."

She nodded and closed the door after he left. Disrobing, she put a hand to her abdomen –which _was_ starting to look a little more round than it had been in recent months, though that was due to a harmless hex, discovered by Gregory, that gradually bloated the stomach of the victim- and sighed. She would have to know the truth and soon.

**-?-**

The next few days continued without further incident, and Hermione was still attempting to gather the courage (and potion ingredients) to test herself for pregnancy. She'd decided to brew the potion on Wednesday –which would be the next day- as she knew Severus had to attend a staff meeting in the morning and wouldn't be returning until noon. She felt guilty for not yet informing him about his possible impending fatherhood, but wanted to be absolutely certain before she said anything. Besides, a part of her was still holding on to the hope that they could reconcile their relationship before he knew about the (possible) baby on the way…

Therefore, when Severus left on Wednesday morning, Hermione raced into his recently improved private laboratory and set about brewing her potion. Thankfully, Severus had restocked his shelves, which meant she had everything she needed at her fingertips. It took an hour to prepare the draught and, as Hermione set it aside to cool, she glanced at her watch. She had to leave it for at least three quarters of an hour, before she could add a drop of her blood, for the results to be as precise as possible. That left her _just_ enough time to clean herself up and have a short snack.

When she returned to the lab, however, she stopped short in her tracks at the sight of her _other_ Potions Professor. Just _how_ the lunatic had bypassed the wards on the property, Hermione had no idea. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was now just past eleven o'clock; Severus should be returning soon. She just had to stall the Matthews bint a bit.

"Professor Matthews," she intoned casually, "What a pleasant surprise to find you here. Has the staff meeting finished early?"

The older woman sneered at her, gesturing towards the cauldron of completed potion, which was now useless as there was every chance that she had tampered with it. "What's this, then?" She grinned wickedly. "A potion to test for…my, my…_pregnancy_." She tutted in mock disappointment. "_Miss Granger_, how sad. The world has expected so much more from you…Thankfully, I've always known better."

The teenager held her ground and rolled her eyes in annoyance. "_Really_ Professor, even you should realise that Professor Snape has certain potions with which he needs to stock the infirmary." She silently applauded herself for her quick thinking. "He deemed this one simple enough for me to brew for him. Madame Pomfrey requested a number of fresh vials of various Draughts…I can fetch the list, if you'd like?" She moved to leave, though consciously not turning her back on the wand-toting cow at the other side of the room.

Siobhan's face fell for a moment, before she narrowed her eyes. "You're lying," she accused, now pointing her wand directly at the Head Girl. "Madame Pomfrey doesn't stock this particular potion…"

"Oh?" Hermione couldn't resist sniping, "You've learnt that from experience, have you?"

"How _dare you_ imply-"

"I haven't implied a thing. _Your tone_ implied everything." _For Mordred's sake, Hermione, **stop provoking her!** _"And I will ask you, Professor, to not accuse me of being dishonest. I have brewed this potion for Professor Snape in his absence." _Bravo! Again, it's not **entirely** a lie…_

Her words didn't appear to penetrate the other witch's skull. "You little brat," she hissed, wand never wavering, "I should hex you now…"

"But that would be illegal, Professor," Hermione reminded her, her tone infuriatingly gentle. "And then where would you be? Jobless? _Certainly_ not in Professor Snape's good graces…"

That did it. The other witch snapped. "Stupefy," she seethed, sending the spell towards Hermione, whose reflexes caused her to dive out of its path.

"What on earth are you doing, you _stupid-_"

"_Relashio_!" A stream of fiery sparks flew from the clearly mad woman's wand, and Hermione rolled out of their way, thankful that they only just grazed her shoulder.

Aiming her wand in Matthews' direction, she cried, "_Expelliarmus_!" but the other woman was quick to avoid being hit by the spell, and quickly returned fire with a strong hex set to squeeze her insides until she imploded.

Now standing by the lab desk, Hermione staggered backwards at the blow from the curse, having been too slow this time. She howled in pain, clutching her abdomen as her internal organs began to tense and crush. She fell forward, knocking the large cauldron to the floor, where it spilled over her feet and the formerly pristine tiles. She slipped, then, at the shock of the hot liquid scalding her skin, and landed in a foetal position, crying for mercy.

Siobhan Matthews grinned wickedly and loomed over her, prepared to cast another curse, before being taken by surprise by Severus' incensed "_Expelliarmus_." Her wand flew into his hand with a resounding 'smack', before she turned to smirk at him.

"I have proof," she laughed, sounding incredibly deranged. "She'd brewed a draught to test for pregnancy, Severus. Tsk, tsk…how the two of you will get into trouble…"

"You _fool_, Siobhan." He hissed, rushing to his student-come-ex lover's side. "Did it not occur to you that she might have been carrying a peer's child? That I am her guardian under _the Headmaster's_ orders?" Her face drained of colour and he sneered. "I thought as much. The Aurors will have your wand for this. Attacking a student in cold blood was a stupid move." He bound her with another spell to prevent her escape, before casting "_Finite Incantatem_" on Hermione's flailing form.

She stopped writhing for a moment and then cried out, feeling a sudden, powerful cramp and then a significant amount of blood seep through her undergarments and robes. Unbeknownst to both of them, the reaction was merely the reaction of her body to the final cessation of Greg's spell to pause her menstrual cycle. It had been held for too long and her body needed to return to its correct state. Of course, Hermione could only jump to the conclusion that she had miscarried under the strain of Matthews' hex, and began to sob uncontrollably.

Sparing a scathing glare in Siobhan's direction, Severus lifted Hermione into his arms and moved her into the next room, where he gently set her on the couch. "I'll be just a moment," he said softly, before moving to the fireplace to alert the Headmaster -and the Aurors- of his intruder. Once the task was complete, and he'd assured Albus that Hermione was shaken but healthy, he moved back to the young woman on the couch. "It's alright," he soothed, holding her close as she wept. "Aurors will be here soon…"

She shook her head. "It's not alright," she howled against him. "If I'd only-" she hiccupped "-told you…If I'd only been honest…the b-baby would be okay…" Her pretty face crumpled again, "Oh, Gods…it's gone…it's all my fault…" She babbled, crying against his chest.

He closed his eyes, swallowing his own disappointment and hurt. "Shh," he kissed the top of her head tenderly. At least _she_ wasn't terribly harmed. He would never have forgiven himself for leaving her at the Manor if she, too, had been taken from him. "Shh…"

He felt so inadequate in that moment. Unable to soothe her pain; unable to offer her condolences. All he could do was hold her and whisper meaningless sounds. It wasn't fair. It wasn't _right_. Rage bubbled up inside him. How had that insufferable lunatic breached his wards? He'd been suspicious at her absence from the morning's staff meeting, but had never believed her capable of trespassing onto his property and _torturing_ her own student. Then when he'd arrived home to find her looming over Hermione, wielding her wand, ice cold fear had gripped his heart. He'd been too late to save their child, but at least he'd been able to save his young friend and once-lover.

"Professor Snape?" An Auror jolted him from his musings.

He glanced up and met the concerned gaze of a past student. "Auror Sheffield," he nodded gruffly. "The intruder is in my lab."

The younger wizard turned to two of his fellow Aurors and gestured for them to retrieve the assailant. He turned back to the Potions Master. "Was the young lady harmed?"

Severus shook his head. "I believe she suffered under a number of hexes, but I managed to terminate them before any permanent damage could be done."

"While I trust your skills implicitly, Professor, I would like to conduct a few diagnostic charms, to be safe."

Though he was reluctant to let Hermione go, Severus nodded his consent and rose from the couch. Robert Sheffield had been one of his better students –a Ravenclaw- in his early ears of teaching, and he trusted the younger man to do his job well. He watched as the Auror conducted his spell and recorded the results.

"Is she well enough to remain here, or does she require medical assistance?" He asked impatiently.

"Though her organs were put under a fair degree of pressure, she has, as you assumed, suffered no long-lasting effects. However," he frowned, "she is bleeding rather heavily…though the cause appears to be menstrual. Perhaps an after effect of the curse…"

Severus nodded in acceptance of Sheffield's reasoning, glad that he'd been able to avert suspicion about their relationship. "I will brew an adequate pain reliever for her discomfort. I believe she will have means to control the bleeding."

"Of course."

The other two Aurors emerged from his lab moments later, supporting Siobhan Matthews between them. Sheffield directed them to take her into custody. He needed to collect statements from the Professor and his young charge before he joined them at the Ministry holding cells.

Severus summoned a Calming Draught for Sheffield to inspect before he gave it to Hermione to ingest, praying to all the deities above that she'd have the good sense not to mention their child to the Auror during her questioning.

"Professor, as is procedure, Auror McCormack will escort you into the other room, while Auror Jesson and I talk with," he consulted his notes, "Miss Granger. I will join you once we are finished here."

"Yes, of course." He responded diligently. It would not help his cause to be noted as bitter and snappish at this point -however badly he yearned to throw the three remaining men out of his home- particularly if he wanted to discredit Matthews as much as possible.

He waited not-entirely-patiently for Sheffield to join him and take his statement. When the time finally arrived, the routine questions were asked: 'Where were you during the assault?' 'What did you do when you arrived at the scene?' 'How well do you know the assailant?' 'How well do you know the victim?' 'Why was the victim staying with you?' 'Why was the victim left unsupervised in your home?' and, finally, 'How would you like to proceed from this point?'

Severus paused to consider his final response. "I would like to have Matthews charged with trespass and assault, as well as grievous misconduct towards a student under her care, and would request that, in the unlikely case of her release, a Restraining Order and the appropriate Restraining Charms be allocated towards both Miss Granger and myself."

The Auror nodded and recorded the requests. "Well then, this all appears to be in order." He snapped his notepad shut. "We will, of course, contact you with the details of the proceedings from here on in. You and Miss Granger will most likely have to testify in front of the Wizengamot, though the case appears to be simple enough. It will merely be routine questions…well, you know the drill."

"Indeed." Severus sighed, then rose from his seat. "If that is all, then…"

Sheffield nodded, realising that their welcome was now quite worn. "I suggest you and the young lady get some rest. It was a harrowing ordeal to be sure, Professor, and I wish you and Miss Granger the best of luck in overcoming it."

"Thank you," the Potions Master nodded in response. "Your assistance in this matter has been invaluable."

"Just doing our jobs, Professor." And, with that, the trio of men exited the house, leaving Severus alone to comfort Hermione once more.

**-?-**

"Drink," Severus commanded an hour or so later, having prepared a fresh batch of pain-relieving draught.

From her position on the couch (she hadn't moved since he'd left her there upon the Auror's orders), Hermione shook her head. "I deserve the pain…"

"Nonsense, you foolish woman." He pushed the vial to her lips. "Wallowing in self-pity will do you no good. Now _drink_."

With a resigned sigh she complied, not even bothering to make a face at the foul taste. She remained silent for another minute before starting, "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?"

She met his concerned gaze and immediately felt even more ashamed. "For not telling you about…" she pointedly placed her hand on her abdomen, "when I had the chance…"

"You've nothing to apologise for. I gave you no reason to trust me with the information until just recently…"

"And I should have told you _then_…" She was trying hard not to break down again. "I've been such an idiot…and now an innocent being –_our child-_ has had to suffer…"

"Hermione," he gathered her in his arms without a second thought, "What's done is done. You cannot blame yourself for what that…_abomination_ to the name 'witch' has done."

"I just…I can't help thinking what a wonderful Dad you would have been…no matter what our relationship was like…" She was shaking like a leaf. "And if I'd only-"

He silenced her with a glare. "I doubt that, had you informed me, it would have changed today's events at all. I would have left you, thinking you safe, and Matthews would still have attacked you." He shook his head. "I will not speak of it anymore."

"But-"

"No." He stood, suddenly cold and emotionless. "Do not mention it again." He softened marginally at the myriad of emotions playing out across her features - fear, anxiety and grief the forerunners. "Come, you should bathe and get into some fresh clothing. Do you require any…sanitary products?"

Hermione allowed him to help her to her feet. She was still a little shaky on her legs. "Sanitary prod…oh. Ah, no, I know a spell to conjure what I need. Thank you, though…"

He nodded stiffly. "I will leave you to it then. Get some rest, if you can. I have business to attend to. Do not wait up for me."

She watched him leave the room and stifled another sob. She had to be strong, now more than ever.

**-?-**

Severus sat at his desk in his office, head in hands. It felt, to him, as though all was lost. He had lost possibly the only chance he'd had at being a parent, and had, subsequently, instinctively pushed Hermione (the one person who was hurting as much as he, if not more) away. There was nobody he could talk to about this, not a soul who he could confide in and ask for guidance…and he had no idea what to do next.

Clearly, he couldn't just revert back to loathing the poor girl. Young woman. _Whatever_. No, that was not an option. She didn't deserve his scorn. Especially not now.

So where did that leave him? Should he continue rekindling their friendship? Should he leave it where it stood now? Or should he attempt to mend their relationship as lovers? Merlin knew he still cared for her deeply. _Bugger it,_ he _loved_ her. It wasn't simply that he found her attractive, though he most certainly did, it was that he loved her, but, more than that, he was in love with her.

But she deserved to be involved with someone else. Someone younger, who could offer her all the things he could not. Someone…someone who wasn't _him_.

However, the mere _thought_ of her being with another man upset him more than he cared to admit to himself, which really meant that it wasn't a viable option to let her go. But how would she take to him seeking to rekindle their romantic relationship? Casting his mind back, he realised that he'd seen love in her eyes that afternoon; through the pain and the self-loathing, she'd still projected her love for him in her gaze and in the way she'd held onto him. All was not lost, then. It would take time and patience, but they would be able to mend things, he was sure of it.

He picked up a piece of parchment and a quill, scribbling two notes, and called for one of his owls. As he watched his bird fly off, he hoped against hope that his plan would work.

**-?-**

Harry Potter arched up from his position on a large bed, moaning, as his boyfriend's tongue did wicked things to his body. He was vaguely aware of a rapid tapping at the window, and then whimpered in disappointment as the larger boy rose from between his legs to see what the disturbance was about.

"_That_ had better be an emergency, Greg…" he groused, rolling on his side to observe his lover.

Gregory read the note, feeling his arousal diminish with each passing word. He turned back to face Harry, thrusting the short letter into the other boy's face. "It's from Snape."

At the very mention of the Head of Slytherin, Harry's erection withered and he grasped the parchment, frowning at its contents. "This is very strange…" he murmured. "Why on earth would he _willingly_ invite us 'round to his place at…" he glanced at his watch, "nine o'clock at night?"

The Head Boy shrugged as he tugged on a fresh pair of trousers. "Dunno. I get the feelin' it's about 'Ermione, though. Somethin's not right…"

"Right, then…" Harry rolled off the bed and began to dress as well. "I'll pack our things - you go tell your parents that we've accepted Snape's _generous_ invitation." The note they'd been sent informed them that Severus had already petitioned Goyle Senior for his son's presence. Harry looked longingly at the still unopened jar of lubricant on the bedside table. "I doubt packing that would be appropriate, then?"

On his way out the door, Greg laughed and shook his head. "Sorry, Luv. Another time…"

Harry pouted. Even now, Snape was ruining _everything_ for him.

**-?-**

The two boys arrived at Snape Manor, via the letter-come-portkey, half an hour later. They had landed in the lounge and Snape was waiting for them as patiently as possible. He gestured towards the couch across from him.

"Mister Potter, Mister Goyle, please sit." They complied and he smiled softly. "Thank you for joining me at such late notice."

"It was nothing, sir." Greg replied, silently daring Harry to contradict him. The poor boy was still in a sexually frustrated funk. He would have to remedy that at the first possible chance he got.

"Indeed." Severus motioned to the refreshments table in front of them. "Do help yourselves."

Greg nodded and poured himself a lemonade. "Sir," he began, pouring Harry a glass of the beverage, "If I might ask…why are we here?"

The Potions Master sighed wearily. "Just how much has Hermione told you of our relationship?"

"Well," Harry now began, sensing that it was now his place to speak as Hermione's best friend, "She loves you, Professor. Very much."

Severus was inexplicably warmed by the boy's admission that she had, in fact, informed them of her feelings. He nodded. "And of our…_physical_ relationship?"

Harry blushed. "She…er…didn't go into specifics, Sir."

Goyle coughed, trying to smother a laugh. "No, 'arry, Luv, I think the Professor means to ask us whether we knew that 'e and 'Ermione were, at one point, intimate."

"Oh," Harry wanted nothing more than to die of sheer mortification. "Then, er, yes…She had told us…" He swallowed nervously. "Why do you ask, Professor? She's not going to get in trouble for telling us, is she?"

Taking pity on the embarrassed youth, Snape shook his head. "No, Potter, Hermione is not in any trouble for confiding in her friends."

"Oh…good."

"I merely wished to make certain you knew of our relationship. I am well aware that you know of her dalliance with Mister Malfoy…however, I wasn't certain she had been completely candid with you about _us_."

Greg frowned; something about this conversation told him something was terribly, horribly wrong. "Has something happened, Sir?"

The two boys watched as Snape's expression became cold and guarded. "I believe that is something you will have to discuss with Hermione. She was…attacked earlier today. That is all I can tell you. She has been inconsolable…I believed that the presence of her close friends might be beneficial…"

"Attacked?" Harry echoed, horrified. "By who? Is she okay?"

Meanwhile, Goyle was already putting two and two together. Snape wanted to know how much Harry knew about their relationship. He hadn't been questioning _him_, though, because Snape had already known that he and Draco knew about…dear Merlin! The not-exactly-real baby! And now Hermione had been attacked and she was inconsolable…

_They think she's miscarried!_

Alarm bells began to ring in Greg's head. Their plan had gone horribly wrong! And now he and Draco would have to reveal their plot in order to fix things, which meant that they would be in a _lot_ of trouble.

_Snape's going to kill us!_

Worse, still, Harry would be incredibly upset with him…and he wasn't certain he could seduce his way out of this mess…

He sighed. "Luv, why don't you go up an' see to 'Ermione, yeah? I'm sure she'll appreciate it…I'll stay 'ere an' talk with Professor Snape."

Harry, in his innocent enthusiasm, happily agreed to the suggestion and bounded off in the direction of the stairs. He already knew his way around the Manor, having stayed there the previous holidays. Greg turned back to his Head of House, steadying himself for the conversation ahead.

"Professor," he began, forcing himself to meet the older wizard's gaze, "There's something I have to confess…"

Severus studied the boy in front of him. "Indeed?"

"I…I've done something terrible, Sir. Draco and I both." He was a Slytherin and thus it came quite easily to him to nominate his co-conspirator.

The professor leant forward in his chair. "Go on."

"Professor Snape, Sir, 'Ermione isn't -_wasn't_- pregnant."

Severus felt his heart stop. "I beg your pardon?"

"I…We…we hadn't meant for it to go this far…"

"Mister Goyle, I suggest you start explaining yourself properly, lest you find yourself at the wrong end of my wand." Severus was trying his absolute best to maintain control of his temper, but, after the day he'd had, it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so.

Greg swallowed nervously. "Draco and I 'ad wanted to give you a nudge in the right direction. We thought that if you believed 'er to be carrying your child, you'd at least _talk_ to 'er again…" He sighed, "But when _that_ didn't 'appen, we upped the stakes a bit. Got hold of a few Weasley products –_without_ Ron's knowledge- and, ah, spiked 'Ermione's meals to make it look a bit more convincing. But when _that_ didn't work, either, we took it even further an' I…er…I put a modified stasis charm and a bloating hex over 'er to make 'er suspicious. She was supposed to 'ave run to you an' taken a test an' then _that_ would've broken the spells and nobody would've been hurt…an' the two of you would've been talkin' again…"

Snape couldn't believe what he was hearing. Gregory Goyle, the Head Boy, had, essentially, cursed and poisoned Hermione into believing that she was pregnant. The plan was absurd, foolish and illegal, and it had hurt both Hermione and he, Severus himself, quite terribly. Of course, the boy's motives hadn't been to harm them…his intentions had been quite innocent, actually…but the fact remained that he and Hermione were overwrought over the loss of a child that had never existed in the first place! And it was all Gregory Goyle's fault!

In a way Severus _knew_ he should have been suspicious of the fact that the Auror hadn't detected evidence of her 'miscarriage' in his Diagnostic spells. After all, if she _had_ been pregnant, she would have been in her second trimester and the foetus would have had to have been removed by a Mediwitch or wizard, which would have been the _first_ thing the Auror would have noted…_Merlin, _he was a fool! He was no teenager! He'd _studied_ Mediwizardry as part of his Masters training! And yet he'd forgotten it all in a crucial moment, believing 'heavy bleeding' to be the completion of her miscarriage. The knowledge of his own stupidity only served to make him angrier at the boy in front of him.

"You loathsome wretch!" He eventually snapped. "You stupid, _foolish_ child! Have you _any_ idea of the damage you've done? Hermione is distraught, blaming herself for the loss of a baby that _you_ made up! She has spent the last nine hours crying inconsolably, and for _no reason_! How do you suppose she is going to react when you tell her what you've done?"

Greg winced but continued to hold his Head of House's gaze. "I don't doubt that she'll hate me for it. An' I deserve it, too. 'Course, we didn't plan for someone to go and attack her. Merlin, she was _here_. She was _safe_. Well, supposed to be…" He shook his head, knowing that this was neither the time nor place to interrogate his Professor about the lack of security at his Manor. "But she deserves to know the truth."

Severus nodded, still cursing himself for being so blind to the evidence in front of him. "You _will_ tell her. _Immediately_." Without waiting for a response, he stormed from the room, a morose, guilt-ridden teenager following him towards his intended destination.

**-?-**

"You...were pregnant?" Harry echoed his best friend in a tone of disbelief. "How on earth did you hide that from us, then?"

"I didn't _know_ I was…" she sniffed, averting her gaze. "It wasn't until Greg cracked a joke last week that I even suspected it…I'm such a fool…"

"No," the Boy-Who-Lived shook his head and hugged her. "These things happen to lots of people, 'Mione. The Sexual Education text book has entire chapters devoted to ramming that message into our heads."

She gave him a small smile at that. "I know, Harry…" She sighed. "I just _feel_ like an idiot, you know? I mean, how could I have missed the signs for so long?"

"Because they weren't there." Greg's voice entered the conversation, and the other two young adults turned to look at him in surprise.

"What?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowed. "What do you mean 'they weren't there'?"

"Yeh see, 'Ermione…It wasn't s'posed to end up like this…" And Greg explained his and Draco's foolish plan, apologising profusely for every single step along the way. As the minutes passed, Hermione could feel herself getting angrier and angrier. She glanced up to meet Severus' gaze as he lingered in the doorway and noticed that he, too, was incensed. At the conclusion of the Head Boy's spiel, both Hermione and Harry were astonished and disgusted.

"I…don't know what to say." The former spoke, fighting back tears of humiliation and frustration. "You…betrayed my trust as a friend, _poisoned and hexed me_, manipulated _my body_…" She swallowed and glared at him. "I don't want to even look at you right now," she concluded, averting her gaze. "You've really hurt me, Greg. Just…leave."

In a way she felt relieved that she hadn't lost a child, but the pain from the _thought_ that she had still lingered. She was confused and hurt, and wanted nothing more than to curl up in Severus' arms and be told that everything would be alright in the end.

_How pathetic_, she mused, internally berating herself. '_Brightest witch of the age' my arse._

Harry, on the other hand, was ropable. He couldn't believe that _his_ boyfriend –his loving, caring, sensitive, _understanding_ Greg- could stoop so low as to set his best friend up like that. "How could you do something like that?" He cried, unable to control his temper. "How could you have ever thought that tricking everyone like that would be 'okay'?" He clutched Hermione tightly, whether to comfort her or himself he wasn't sure. "I can't believe you would hurt Hermione like that. Or the Professor, come to think of it." He shook his head. "I…I don't think I want to talk to you right now, either. Hermione needs her _real_ friends to try and fix what you've done."

"Luv, I-" Greg tried, only to be cut off by his boyfriend.

Harry shook his head. "Leave. You've done enough damage for the moment."

Instead of arguing and justifying his actions, the Slytherin merely nodded and left the room. At least Harry hadn't dumped him then and there. That meant that there was still a chance –however slim- to resolve things and he would try his hardest to put things right again. And he knew the perfect place to start…

**-?-**

An hour later found Severus and Hermione alone in what they both came to view as _their_ bedroom. The tension between them was palpable. Harry had taken one of the spare rooms down the corridor, while Greg had been sent home, as it had been unanimously agreed that he was neither needed nor wanted in the Manor any more.

Though they were both exhausted, neither Severus nor Hermione could sleep. In the end, it was Hermione who broke the silence.

"I'm sorry, Severus."

He shifted to face her. "Whatever for _now_?"

"For all of this. If I had just swallowed my pride and come to see you last week, none of this would have been happening." She shrugged. "It was just that…some part of me wanted us to work everything out on our own, _without_ making you feel as though I expected something from you because I might have been pregnant…Merlin, I feel so foolish, now."

Realising that this was his chance to set things right between them, Severus smiled gently. "Nowhere near as foolish as I, I'd wager." He responded softly. "I've been trained in basic Mediwizardry…if I'd only confronted you and run a Diagnostic charm when those two _idiots_ began their epic plot to ruin our lives, I would have immediately discovered the truth."

Despite herself, she snorted. "I can only imagine how impressed I would have been should you have done so…"

"Perhaps you'd have been as impressed as I was when Minerva felt it prudent to check that I had taken the Disillusionment Draught after those damned _children_ disappeared."

"What?" Hermione was grinning now, incredulous that her Head of House had even _thought_ to question Severus Snape on that issue. "_Why_?"

"She felt that I was 'more emotional than usual' in the days following Sophia's removal." Snape rolled his eyes. "I assured her that I was the first to take the Draught, and that I am never '_emotional_'."

Hermione laughed outright at that. "Of course not." Her tone was laced with sarcasm. "I've _never_ seen any emotion on your face, Professor."

He smirked. "Even if you had, _Miss Granger_, I'd have obliviated you."

"Oh," she mock-gasped, "Is _that_ why I seem to be missing…oh, the last six years of my memory?"

"Brat."

"Git."

"Know-it-all."

"Er…Hermit."

"_Gryffindor_."

"_Slytherin."_

He paused to observe their positions. They'd moved closer to one another with each passing jest, and now lay stretched against one another, their bodies touching. He felt a thrum of arousal pass through his entire being at the sensation of merely being with her in bed once again. Despite the fact that they had shared the bed for the last few nights, they hadn't _felt_ close…until now. "Tease." He whispered, swooping down and capturing her lips in a chaste kiss.

She melted as his lips pressed against her own. "Mmm," was all she said when he pulled away.

"_Mmm_ indeed." He agreed softly, searching her gaze for any sign that his attentions were unwanted. However, all he found was love, desire and a glimmer of uncertainty – emotions which he, too, was feeling at that moment. "Hermione-" he started, only to be cut off.

"No…don't. Let's just enjoy this for now, okay? I'm too emotionally exhausted to talk about _any of it _right now. In the morning we will, I promise. But…not now."

He nodded, understanding her babbled request. It had been a long, emotionally draining day. "Of course." He replied, settling down and pulling her against him. "Sleep, then?"

She yawned and snuggled against him as she had all those months earlier. "Sleep," she nodded.

And that was that.

* * *

A/N – Right, well, I really relied on the Harry Potter Lexicon for this chapter. Without that wonderful site, I would have been lost completely on the spells named and how to (no pun intended) spell them. I know, this was a very OOC chapter, but, seeing as the entire fic is OOC, I think this went rather well anyway. Very fluffy... But, the story is winding down…only three more chapters to go, now, including the epilogue. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. It's definitely not one of my best, I know. I had a bit of Writer's Block with it, and couldn't seem to get the characters to react as I wanted them to…but I'm relatively pleased with the result anyway. Tell me what you thought!

Oh, and I assure you, Severus is most certainly _not_ done with Greg and Draco, however complacent he may seem right now. Once the shock of the situation subsides, those boys had best run for cover…Mwahahahaha….


	12. Sense of Humour

A/N – I know, I know. It's been seven months since I updated and I apologise. Uni was full on, I've been on prac for the last few weeks (and totally kicking arse!), I've been ill, and I've been working a lot of night shifts to be able to feed myself. Top all of that off with some Writer's Block and it's been hell. Still, here we go, back on track…if it's a little stilted, I apologise. Also, some moments may seem eerily similar to those in the last chapter, but don't skim past them, as you may miss something important. Getting back into the swing of this fic has been quite daunting, and I'm still not sure I've done it justice…Either way, I didn't want you to wait any longer, so it's all yours now. Please, be gentle…

* * *

**Chapter 12 – Sense of Humour**

Draco stared into the fireplace in his bedroom, gaping at his co-conspirator. When he'd been rudely awoken by Greg's firecall, he'd informed the other boy that matters had better have been urgent. Now, however, he wished that they were less so.

"You told them everything?" He asked in disbelief. "Absolutely everything? And incriminated _me_ in the process?"

His friend's face glowered back at his accusatory tone. "I'm no Gryff, Draco. If I was goin' down, I was bringin' you with me. 'Sides, wasn't this entire thing your idea to bloody begin with?"

"No!" The blond huffed indignantly.

Greg sighed; what was done was done and there was no changing it. Arguing over who started what would be pointless. "Look, it's done. It's over. Now we need to fix it. Poor girl is in a right state, and it's our fault, really. And now 'Arry won't talk to me-"

"Oh, so _that's_ what's going on! You miss your boy-toy!" Draco was still upset at having been dobbed in, and wasn't feeling all that generous. "Sorry, Goyle, but you're on your own. _You_ told them everything; ergo, it's _your_ job to fix it."

"What?! Bollocks, Draco! We're in this together. 'Sides, if you 'elp me put things right, chances of Snape killing you will be far slimmer."

_Hmm…_Greg _did_ have a point…

The Malfoy heir sighed. "Fine. What do you suggest we do?"

**-?-**

Harry lay awake in his bed, fuming. He felt so betrayed! Greg had been nothing but kind, caring and patient…_completely_ understanding of peoples' emotions and decisions…and then _WHAM;_ he pulled this stupid stunt that ended up all but crushing Hermione. And to think that he'd been willing to trust him with his virginity! Perfect match or no, Harry was glad that they hadn't yet gone that far. Greg didn't deserve that honour, and it would take a while for him to once again prove himself worthy.

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed. Try as he might, he couldn't quite hate Greg for what he'd done. After all, it wasn't as though he'd acted out of spite or malevolence; he and Draco had been trying to help…through unconventional means, _yes_, but it was utterly innocent, really. It would eventually be forgivable, but Hermione and Snape needed time to get over the shock and turmoil of the situation, and Harry himself needed to come to terms with his boyfriend's deception.

He just hoped that Snape didn't kill him in the meantime.

**-?-**

Morning crept over the Manor gently, as though sensing the occupants' need for peace and tranquillity. Hermione was the first to wake and she stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. She was still hurt by Greg and Draco's actions, but was starting to understand why they had done what they'd done. In a misguided way, they had wanted nothing more than to nudge her and Severus back together, and that was almost commendable. Almost.

She had believed that she had lost a child. Her child. Severus' child. The grief had been crippling. Even now, knowing that it wasn't real, that no baby had been miscarried, she fought the urge to break down in tears of sadness and loss. She couldn't even begin to imagine how she might have survived the ordeal had it been real…and it was entirely Greg and Draco's fault that she had sampled that fear and grief to begin with.

So she was angry. Angry that they had manipulated her own body to work against her. Angry that she had trusted them. Angry that they had betrayed her and Severus. Angry that she couldn't bring herself to forgive and forget, knowing that they really had meant well…

And she was hurt. Hurt for all the above reasons and then more.

She'd _wanted_ that baby. Some part of her had been hoping that she _was_ pregnant, despite the drama it might have caused. She'd even spared a few thoughts to names, to clothes, to toys, to _family_. And for what? For a practical joke? She felt humiliated and violated. And, Merlin, Severus had thought she was pregnant, too! He had _known_ and, from what she had consciously observed yesterday, he had wanted that child, too. He hadn't said it –neither had she- but he had grieved over their loss just as she had. She'd been honest when she'd told him that he would make a wonderful father.

One day, she decided, she would give him that opportunity. It was clear they both wanted it, after all. Perhaps even more so than they had openly told each other during the Christmas break.

_But first_, she sighed as she rose from the bed, _we have to move past this entire debacle. _

Of course, like most life-changing events, that was easier said than done.

**-?-**

Severus sat in his study, quill in hand, poised over a blank piece of parchment. He'd been attempting to gain permission to have Malfoy and Goyle join him for a small _chat_, but hadn't been able to form the words. A small droplet of ink gathered at the tip of his quill and, when his hand wavered, dropped from the implement and onto the parchment, splattering and absorbing on impact. Severus didn't notice. He was lost in thought, wondering over his response to knowing the truth.

Hermione hadn't miscarried. She hadn't even been pregnant. It was a relief, and yet he felt strangely empty inside. He'd spent weeks convincing himself that he was ready to accept his duties as a father. Merlin, he'd actually wanted to _embrace_ the fact! For all of his self-doubt, he knew that he had wanted that baby.

But there hadn't been a baby, had there? It had all been due to the machinations and intricacies of some twisted teenage prank, courtesy of his aforementioned Slytherins, to mend his broken relationship. The very idea seemed both laughable and disturbing, and left him mourning a life that had never existed. He scowled; Severus Snape had _never_ dealt well with being made to feel a fool, and he had _certainly_ never enjoyed feeling _vulnerable_.

The notion that something could indeed hurt him so deeply angered him. Those boys had no right to behave as they had done; Malfoy especially. Did it matter _why_ they had acted that way? No! He couldn't see how it made a lick of difference, and he would _never_ look back on this situation with a sense of humour borne of a sentimental attitude to human idiocies, though he knew, on some level, that Hermione would. It was in her affable, gentle, Gryffindor nature after all. Despite himself, he envied her for it, knowing that she would be able to move past this debacle far easier than he in the long run.

Now, that wasn't to say that he didn't see that she was hurting; it was clear that a small part of her had died inside at the thought of losing their child, and he could only imagine her inner turmoil at having thought herself the carrier and nurturer of said foetus. However, she was more rational than he, and far more willing to discuss the issue with the fiends that had caused her grief, far more willing to find closure and mend broken bridges, while he, on the other hand, would allow his anger and pain to fester within him, bubbling away like a sulphurous potion.

Images of Sophia flashed through his mind, devoid of the emotional attachment one would expect to be connected with rearing an infant that was, for all intents and purposes, his own child. Thankfully, the Disillusionment Draught had seen to that. However, he remembered playing the role of a father, of a 'Daddy'; in his mind's eye Sophia was replaced by yet another child - the product of his overactive imagination, the child he thought he'd lost. His heart clenched painfully as he envisioned himself swooping a giggling toddler into his arms and hoisting it off to bed, reading tales of mystery and wonder, nurturing its superior intellect alongside his wife…_Hermione_. Suddenly, it felt as though the Draught had failed. He was gripped by grief for a life that could have been.

"Sir?" Harry Potter had stumbled upon him at the most inopportune moment and stood at the door of his private study, transfixed by the emotion and despair playing across his features.

"For Merlin's sake, Boy, close the door." The very thought of Hermione discovering him in such a state alarmed him.

Potter walked in and shut the door in one swift movement, before cautiously approaching the desk. "Professor Snape," he began softly, as one would attempt to coerce a skittish animal, "Is there anything I can do?"

It was a testament to how distraught he was that Severus merely shook his head rather than snap at the son of his schoolyard nemesis. "I intend on dealing with your recalcitrant associates privately. Excluding that, there is very little to be done."

Harry nodded. "Maybe I should go? I'd be welcome enough with the Weasleys."

"I am loathe to send you away without allowing you to discuss it with Hermione beforehand," Severus responded, "however, it would more than likely be for the best of all involved."

"I thought as much. You and 'Mione need to move on from this properly."

Snape raised an eyebrow; the boy had no right to speak to him so bluntly. When his sardonic gaze was returned with a slight blush, it was clear that they both knew as much.

"I don't mean to overstep my bounds," Harry hurried to extrapolate, "but she's my best friend. I don't think I could bear to see her like she was ever again…But you're both quite stubborn at the _best_ of times and-"

Emotions once again under control, Severus rolled his eyes. "I'd suggest you stop there, Potter, before you say something you'll truly regret."

"Yes sir." Harry's cheeks were red. "Sorry."

"I sincerely doubt it."

**-?-**

"Leaving?" Hermione echoed morosely over lunch, "Harry, _why_?"

She watched as her two companions shared a look. Obviously, they'd come to the decision together, and she wondered if they imagined it was in her best interests or their own.

"Oh, honestly!" she huffed, folding her arms across her chest, "I'm not a porcelain doll! I don't need minding! I should have been included in this decision too!"

Severus sighed. "Be that as it may, Mister Potter-"

"Harry." Her interjection was pointed and automatic. He sighed again.

"_Harry_ has chosen to visit with Mister Weasley-"

"_Ron_."

His expression became pinched, but he forged onwards. "With _Ronald_ so that you and I might have some time between ourselves."

The young woman sniffed haughtily, as though uncertain as to whether Severus was being entirely honest with her. She turned to her best friend of almost seven years. "Is that true?"

Harry was torn between telling her the truth and upsetting her, or lying and making Snape out to be the bad guy once more. After a moment's deliberation, he nodded dejectedly. "You have to understand, 'Mione, that I don't think I'm helping anyone by staying on here. You and Snape-"

"_Severus_."

Harry was startled by the fact that it was his Potions Master to correct him so gently on his form of address rather than his generally bossy (yet utterly lovable) best friend. "Er…right…" he stammered for a bit, momentarily confused. "As I was saying…You and Sn…er…_Severus_ deserve a bit of time to sort through everything on your own. And Ron and I haven't had the chance to muck around as mates for a while now. It really does work out to be the best for everyone."

"Oh." Hermione took a moment to absorb his words. "Well, in that case…go. Have fun. Send Ron my regards." Her sentences were jarring against one another and the hurt in her tone was unmistakeable. She rose from her seat, her movements stilted. "I think I'm done here. Goodbye, Harry. I will see you at school." She turned on her heel and fled the scene.

The Boy-Who-Lived hurried to chase after her, but Severus moved to stop him. "Leave her be, Potter. There's not much you can say or do at this point in time that will do any good."

Harry nodded. "I'll write…"

"As will she. And before you know it you'll be sickeningly chummy once more."

Severus ushered the young man to the fireplace and hesitated a moment, before shaking his hand. "You've done the right thing, Potter."

"I hope so." Harry responded meaningfully, before activating the floo network and disappearing into the flames.

**-?-**

Hermione chastised herself as she lay sprawled out over the bed, originally intent on wallowing in self-pity. Hadn't she resolved, only that very morning, to move on? Why was she being such a sook _now_? Harry had every right to go to Ron's. After all, he, too, had been hurt by Greg's actions. She hadn't even considered the fact that he needed a little comfort, too.

The truth of the matter was that she was anxious about being left alone with Severus. Things between them would no doubt be awkward, and they hadn't really had a chance to talk about anything substantial, really, since that initial trip back to the Manor. What if they couldn't breach the gap that had grown between them? What if he reverted back to the nasty bat of the dungeons role that he played so very well? She needed him more than ever but had no idea how to make things right again.

With a sigh, she pushed herself from the bed and straightened her clothes. There really was no point hiding away and moping, though. Severus did that well enough on his own.

"Going somewhere?"

Hermione spun on her heel to face the very object of her musings. "I was about to come and find you, actually."

"Indeed?" He leant casually against the doorframe, though he tensed as he knew what was about to follow.

She nodded. "We need to talk about all of this, Severus."

Though he wanted nothing more than to refute that very claim, he nodded resignedly. "Very well. Shall we take this conversation elsewhere?" The bedroom seemed far too intimate.

Hermione agreed and followed him down the stairs and into the sitting room. He summoned tea as a courtesy, but it went untouched.

"Is it terribly wrong of me to have wanted that baby?" she asked bluntly, having sat in strained silence for over a minute.

He met her gaze. "Of course not, you foolish woman. It would have been impractical to have a child…"

"But it would have been loved nevertheless?"

He nodded.

"I can't believe how stupid I was." She began again after another moment spent in silent contemplation. "I mean, how hard is it to check myself for hexes?"

Severus sighed. "The war is well over; we've all been lulled into a false sense of security. There is no use thinking about things we might have done differently. You had no reason to believe those boys would do anything quite so idiotic."

"I know, but-"

"Hermione," his tone was gentle, "you can't change the past."

She observed the way his eyes glimmered with a rage that was barely suppressed. "But you are planning on punishing them."

"Actions such as theirs should not go unpunished."

"Severus," she pleaded softly, "I understand that what they did was wrong, and that it hurt us, but they didn't do it _to_ hurt us. They did it to help."

"And that excuses them, does it?"

"Well, no, but you shouldn't be too hard on them…"

He blinked. "Merlin, Woman, think about what they've put you through! Don't you want to see justice served?"

"I know what they've put me through! What they've put you through! And I'm not saying that I don't want to hex them into oblivion…but it's not right. Not when they were only trying to make things better." She reached out and placed her hand upon his in a placating gesture. Her eyes were moist as she tried to reason with him. "Please. Please don't be too hard on them."

Severus sighed. "But you agree that their actions deserve some consequence?"

"Of course I do." She shook her head. "Just remember that they are only teenagers. Teenagers make mistakes, Severus." She rubbed his left forearm pointedly. "Everyone deserves a chance at redemption."

**-?-**

"Right, add three drops of essence of flaxweed, stir five times counter-clockwise, then leave to cool." Draco instructed, reading from a Potions text that he'd managed to procure from the estate's library. Technically, his Aunt forbade him from removing any books from the library for fear of the mischief he could cause, but he'd been able to sneak this one out with some magical manoeuvring.

Goyle complied and stepped away to compare his handiwork to the sample outlined on the pages of the book. "It's the right colour and texture…"

"Of course it is." the blond responded arrogantly, "Outside of Granger, you and I are the best Potions students in that school; following such simple instructions is child's play."

Gregory nodded. "Just hope this works, then, eh?"

Draco sniffed imperiously as he hovered over the cauldron. "As I said; there's no chance it won't." He straightened up. "Now, to infiltrate Hogwarts…"

Goyle groaned. This new part of the scheme was his companion's input, and he still doubted it would work.

**-?-**

"So, let me get this straight," Ron began, sprawled out on the grass at The Burrow next to his best male friend, "Malfoy and Goyle convinced 'Mione and Snape that she was up the duff, she went to stay with him, some crazed woman bypassed his wards and attacked her, she thought she'd miscarried and now Malfoy and Goyle are in deep shit."

Harry nodded and plucked a blade of grass from the earth beside him, twirling it between his fingers as he spoke. "That's about it, yeah. So, Snape's on the war path, 'Mione's trying to come to terms with everything, and Greg's in the doghouse."

"Huh." Ron shook his head. "What a mess, eh? Poor 'Mione…"

"Yeah." Harry sighed. "Sucks that there's nothing we can do to help."

The redhead agreed. "Don't suppose we should go to McGonagall for help?"

The Boy-Who-Lived goggled at him. "You've lost it! Snape'd be fired and Hermione'd never forgive us."

"I don't know…Going to McGonagall seemed like the sort of thing 'Mione would suggest…"

"Not this time, she wouldn't. As much as she likes doing 'the right thing'," here, Harry emphasised the phrase with his fingers, "Hermione likes her relationship with Snape better."

Ron mulled this over for a moment. "I s'pose you're right," he eventually conceded.

"Wish I wasn't."

**-?-**

"Be careful, you great oaf!"

"I would, if you'd stop steppin' on me toes!"

"Do you want us to get caught?"

There was a sigh.

"Yes, Malfoy, I'm hoping for it."

"You know, Goyle, there's no use being so snide."

They were wearing an invisibility cloak 'borrowed' from Draco's Aunt's chateaux, and, as such, were bent over and scrunched together in order to fit. Sneaking around the castle at Hogwarts in this manner was certainly not as easy as Draco had made it sound.

"Did it ever occur to you that my plan was fine as it was?" The Head Boy responded tersely. "This-" he waved his hand around, dislodging the cloak momentarily and allowing their feet to become visible, "is not necessary."

Draco readjusted the cloak with a huff. "You wanted my help, didn't you? Well, this is me helping."

"Not if we get caught, it isn't."

"But we _won't_ get caught if you'd just shut up and get on with it."

Goyle sighed. "Fine. But if we do get caught, I'll be wantin' the top bunk in our cell."

Draco rolled his eyes. And people said _he_ was melodramatic!

**-?-**

Hours later, the two Slytherins stumbled into Snape Manor, one clutching two precious vials of potion, the other concealing a time turner.

_Merlin,_ Greg thought to himself, _I hope this works_.

**-?-**

For Hermione and Severus, Wednesday morning started as they had known it would. They woke up, showered, dressed and ate breakfast as usual. Then Severus excused himself to leave for the staff meeting and Hermione watched him floo out before she made her way to the lab. There she set about brewing the potion that would confirm her suspected pregnancy and then she could find a way to tell Severus…

Draco and Greg watched her from the shadows, concealed under the invisibility cloak. When she left, they remained, waiting for Professor Matthews to arrive. Sure enough, after another twenty minutes or so, she appeared at the doorway and started to snoop around the room. Draco raised his wand in her direction, but Greg shook his head and urged him to lower it. It wasn't yet the right time. They had to do this properly.

When Hermione returned, they prepared themselves to intervene at an opportune moment.

"Professor Matthews," Hermione greeted her intruder casually, "What a pleasant surprise to find you here. Has the staff meeting finished early?"

The older woman sneered at her, gesturing towards the cauldron of completed potion. "What's this, then?" She grinned wickedly. "A potion to test for…my, my…_pregnancy_." She tutted in mock disappointment. "_Miss Granger_, how sad. The world has expected so much more from you…Thankfully, I've always known better."

The boys watched as the Head Girl held her ground and rolled her eyes in annoyance. "_Really_ Professor, even you should realise that Professor Snape has certain potions with which he needs to stock the infirmary. He deemed this one simple enough for me to brew for him. Madame Pomfrey requested a number of fresh vials of various Draughts…I can fetch the list, if you'd like?" She moved to leave, though consciously not turning her back on the wand-toting cow at the other side of the room. The two boys silently applauded her intelligence.

Siobhan's face fell for a moment, before she narrowed her eyes. "You're lying," she accused, now pointing her wand directly at the Head Girl. "Madame Pomfrey doesn't stock this particular potion…"

"Oh?" Hermione couldn't resist sniping, "You've learnt that from experience, have you?"

"How _dare you_ imply-"

"I haven't implied a thing. _Your tone_ implied everything. And I will ask you, Professor, to not accuse me of being dishonest. I have brewed this potion for Professor Snape in his absence."

Gregory closed his eyes and winced. She shouldn't have baited the older woman.

"You little brat," Matthews hissed, wand never wavering, "I should hex you now…"

"But that would be illegal, Professor," Hermione reminded her, her tone infuriatingly gentle. "And then where would you be? Jobless? _Certainly_ not in Professor Snape's good graces…"

That did it. The other witch snapped. "Stupefy," she seethed, sending the spell towards Hermione, whose reflexes caused her to dive out of its path.

"What on earth are you doing, you _stupid-_"

"_Relashio_!" A stream of fiery sparks flew from the clearly mad woman's wand, and Hermione rolled out of their way, thankful that they only just grazed her shoulder.

Aiming her wand in Matthews' direction, she cried, "_Expelliarmus_!" but the other woman was quick to avoid being hit by the spell, and set about returning fire with a strong hex set to squeeze her insides until she imploded. The two boys sprang forth, Draco disarming Matthews, and Goyle knocking Hermione out of the path of the spell.

After Draco had successfully placed the Professor in a body bind, he turned back to see Gregory helping Hermione to her feet. The Head Girl spluttered at them.

"Is this place warded at all?!" She seethed, brushing dirt from her clothes. She glowered at Goyle. "Not that I don't appreciate being saved from that hex, but I demand that you tell me what's going on!"

The near-behemoth rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. "Right, well, er, I say we'd best go find a seat." He turned to his accomplice. "Can you levitate 'er along with us? I want to keep 'er where I can see 'er."

Draco complied and followed the other two students from the room, the floating body of Hermione's would-be-attacker floating along behind him.

Once in the living room, Gregory opened his mouth to start his long-winded explanation, but was cut off by the sound of his Potions Master's voice.

"Just _what_ is going on here?" Severus asked, taking in the scene. Siobhan Matthews hovered unconscious in a body-bind, while the three students looked as though they were about to start a tea party.

Hermione, still shaken from the surprises of the morning, looked up at him and patted the seat beside her. "I was just about to find out, actually."

Still eyeing his two Slytherins suspiciously, Severus moved to her side. "Well then," he prompted, "Start talking."

Taking a deep breath, Greg started to explain things as best he could. He told the other two of his and Draco's incredibly foolish plan and of his remorse that they had let it go on too long. He explained about the events that had led to him and Draco donning an invisibility cloak and stealing the Time-Turner from Dumbledore's office. Then he procured a vial of potion and handed it to her.

"Disillusionment Draught," she muttered, her mind reeling at all the information he had given her.

He nodded. "Once I remove the stasis charm and the other spells, your body will be back to normal…the potion's to 'elp with the feelings of loss that our little stunt's probably caused…"

She nodded mutely.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Did you…er…need some…er…some sort of…er…girly products? For the…er…the bleeding?"

"Bleeding?" She blinked owlishly at him. "Oh…" her cheeks coloured. "Right. Yes, I'll just be a minute." She rose to her feet and made her way into the nearest bathroom.

Greg retrieved another vial and passed it to his Potion's Professor, who was eerily silent. The man uncorked the vial and inspected the contents thoroughly, before drinking them down in one swift gulp.

After another few minutes of silence, while the potion worked its magic and Hermione had yet to return, Severus glowered at his students. "You were both incredibly foolish. The damage that could have and, as I understand it, _was_ done as a result of your actions is unthinkable! Add to that the fact that you have committed acts of burglary _and_ Time-Travel-"

"Severus," Hermione interrupted, her tone sad, "please. They meant well. Don't be too hard on them."

He scowled. "Be that as it may, they've committed _crimes_, Hermione. They cannot go unpunished." Neither one of them realised that this conversation, while new to them, was one that they had already had.

She sighed, "And I agree. However, I'm asking that you consider the fact that they were not acting out of spite and, in a round a bout way, they haven't hurt anyone. This time, that is." She sent the two miscreant boys glares of her own. "I feel betrayed by your actions. You turned my own body against me and filled me with hopes and fears that were unfounded. It's going to take a while before I trust either one of you again. I hope you realise that." They both nodded morosely, though Draco looked as though he wanted to argue with her. She sighed. "But I also realise the lengths you've gone to to remedy the situation and to make me feel…somewhat better than I might have. So, for that, I thank you. Now, remove these damn spells. I'm bloated and I'm looking forward to moving past this entire ordeal."

**-?-**

Later that night, Harry Potter arched up from his position on a large bed, moaning, as his boyfriend's tongue did wicked things to his body. He was vaguely aware of a rapid tapping at the window, and then whimpered in disappointment as the larger boy rose from between his legs to see what the disturbance was about.

"_That_ had better be an emergency, Greg…" he groused, rolling on his side to observe his lover.

Gregory read the note, feeling his arousal diminish with each passing word. He turned back to face Harry, thrusting the short letter into the other boy's face. "It's from Snape."

**-?-**

Severus waited for the two boys to arrive as Goyle had explained they would. Apparently, running through this discussion now, rather than waiting, was absolutely vital. The Head Boy had actually blushed when he admitted that, should the discussion wait, Potter might be even angrier with him than he would be this evening. Severus shuddered to think what _that_ meant.

It already unnerved him to think that the Head Boy was hiding away in an upstairs room while he was about to address his doppelganger. However, any further division from their original actions might lead to disaster, which was why he had called the Aurors in to deal with the Matthews bint, as he was certain that's what he would have done under any other circumstance. He and Hermione had rehearsed their individual stories and he had sent Malfoy and Goyle away to his private quarters at Hogwarts until the Aurors left the property. From there, the Head Boy had said that it was imperative that his current-time self and Potter should be retrieved and spoken to. Malfoy was being forced to remain out of the way until he could return home without bumping into himself and causing some other disaster.

At nine-thirty the two boys arrived at Snape Manor, via the letter-come-portkey. They had landed in the lounge and Snape was waiting for them as patiently as possible. He gestured towards the couch across from him.

"Mister Potter, Mister Goyle, please sit." They complied and he smiled softly. "Thank you for joining me at such late notice."

"It was nothing, sir." Real-time Greg replied.

"Indeed." Severus motioned to the refreshments table in front of them. "Do help yourselves."

Greg nodded and poured himself a lemonade. "Sir," he began, pouring Harry a glass of the beverage, "If I might ask…why are we here?"

The Potions Master sighed wearily. This entire charade was beginning to get on his nerves. "Just how much has Hermione told you of our relationship?"

"Well," Harry now began, sensing that it was now his place to speak as Hermione's best friend, "She loves you, Professor. Very much."

Severus was inexplicably warmed by the boy's admission that she had, in fact, informed them of her feelings. He nodded. "And of our…_physical_ relationship?"

Harry blushed. "She…er…didn't go into specifics, Sir."

Goyle coughed, trying to smother a laugh. "No, 'arry, Luv, I think the Professor means to ask us whether we knew that 'e and 'Ermione were, at one point, intimate."

"Oh," It was clear that Potter wanted nothing more than to die of sheer mortification. "Then, er, yes…She had told us…" He swallowed nervously. "Why do you ask, Professor? She's not going to get in trouble for telling us, is she?"

Taking pity on the embarrassed youth, Snape shook his head. "No, Potter, Hermione is not in any trouble for confiding in her friends."

"Oh…good."

"I merely wished to make certain you knew of our relationship. I am well aware that you know of her dalliance with Mister Malfoy…however, I wasn't certain she had been completely candid with you about _us_."

Goyle frowned; something about this conversation told him something was terribly, horribly wrong. "Has something happened, Sir?"

The two boys watched as Snape's expression became cold and guarded. "I believe that is something you will have to discuss with Hermione. She was…attacked earlier today. That is all I can tell you. She has been rather upset…I believed that the presence of her close friends might be beneficial…"

"Attacked?" Harry echoed, horrified. "By who? Is she okay?"

Meanwhile, it was obvious that Goyle was already putting two and two together. Snape wanted to know how much Harry knew about their relationship. He hadn't been questioning _him_, though, because Snape had already known that he and Draco knew about…dear Merlin! The not-exactly-real baby! And now Hermione had been attacked and she was upset…

Alarm bells began to ring in Greg's head. Their plan had gone horribly wrong! And now he and Draco would have to reveal their plot in order to fix things, which meant that they would be in a _lot_ of trouble.

He sighed. "Luv, why don't you go up an' see to 'Ermione, yeah? I'm sure she'll appreciate it…I'll stay 'ere an' talk with Professor Snape."

Harry, in his innocent enthusiasm, happily agreed to the suggestion and bounded off in the direction of the stairs. He already knew his way around the Manor, having stayed there the previous holidays. Greg turned back to his Head of House, steadying himself for the conversation ahead.

"Professor," he began, forcing himself to meet the older wizard's gaze, "There's something I have to confess…"

Severus studied the boy in front of him, already knowing what was about to be said. "Indeed?"

"I…I've done something terrible, Sir. Draco and I both." He was a Slytherin and thus it came quite easily to him to nominate his co-conspirator.

The professor leant forward in his chair. "Go on."

"Professor Snape, Sir, 'Ermione isn't -_wasn't_- pregnant."

Severus nodded. "I know."

Real-time Goyle continued to babble. "I…We…we hadn't meant for it to go this far…"

"Mister Goyle, while I enjoy watching you humiliate yourself, I must admit that Hermione and I already know of your foolish scheme and I assure you, there will be consequences."

"How-"

"How we know is none of your concern." Severus glowered. "I expect you to follow in Potter's wake and explain this entire debacle, and your part in it, to him. And to apologise to Hermione while you're at it."

The Slytherin hung his head in shame. "Yes, sir."

Severus merely rolled his eyes. He would be glad when this entire ordeal was over.

-?-

From there on, significant events continued as they were intended to. Real-time Goyle was sent home to mull over what he had done, Harry eventually visited the Weasleys and Hermione and Severus were left to discuss things privately.

When the evening came, Greg and Draco left to replace their real-time counterparts, but not without a warning from their Potion's Professor that he was not finished with them yet.

"So," Draco began, leaning into the hearth of his bedroom fire, "Your next plan's to woo Potter back, I'd wager?"

Greg nodded at his fireplace, where Draco's face had emerged. "Definitely. As far as damage goes, we could have done a lot worse this time 'round."

"Perhaps. We've still got Snape's wrath to look forward to."

The Head Boy sighed. Though he wasn't a fan of being punished for his actions, he understood that he'd brought it upon himself. Making Draco realise that, however, was a lost cause. "Yeah," he eventually replied, "But remember, it could've been a lot worse."

They ended the fire-call on that note and retired to bed.

* * *

**A/N – **Right, well there's the end of chapter 12. Only one more chapter and an epilogue left. Not bad, right? Go on, tell me your thoughts. I'm dying to hear/read them. Hope you enjoyed it on some level. 


	13. Ego

A/N – No apologies this time around. I know eighteen months is a long time to wait, but it couldn't be helped. Real Life always comes first. Have been teaching, planning a wedding, having said wedding, going on honeymoon, then going back to teaching, then quitting teaching as I was only a contract teacher and wanted something permanent, then buying a house...it goes on, and thus I have had very little time to myself. This chapter was a long time in the making simply because I wrote it, then watched my computer crash and eat my files, forcing me to start all over. I'm relatively proud of how it's turned out though – it's all come to a close, now. Next chapter is the final chapter/epilogue. I just need to write it first…LOL. Can't wait for your opinions! You've all been so wonderful to this point, so many _many_ thanks are in order!

Merry Christmas!!!

* * *

**Chapter 13 – Ego**

Tensions ran high between Severus and Hermione over the next few days, as neither was particularly willing to discuss the events that had led up to that fateful Wednesday. They continued sharing the same bed and ate all meals together cordially, but they were accompanied by tensions that continued to accumulate the more they attempted to avoid them for fear of arguing or upsetting one another.

However, when she woke on Sunday morning, Hermione sighed and rolled over to face her companion; a pointed sign that they were about to have a serious talk. Severus, who had been awake for some time, met her gaze steadily. "Good morning," he offered somewhat casually, in a vague attempt to prolong the inevitable.

"We need to talk." Hermione responded matter-of-factly.

He smirked softly. "I believe we already are."

She sighed yet again. "I'm serious, Severus. We need to actually _talk_, not exchange stilted conversation like we've been doing for the last three days."

He considered her words for a moment, then nodded. "I agree."

"I meant it when I said I missed all of this, you know. That first day back…I really had missed lying here next to you…" _Amongst other things_, her mind added, and she fought a blush. This was _not_ an appropriate time to be thinking of anything other than reconciling their friendship for once and for all. And they had a long way to go before sexual intimacy should become an issue again. "And I still do, as silly as that sounds. And this goes beyond Wednesday, too…"

"Indeed," the Slytherin replied, not entirely pleased to be reminded of their rift and the events that followed it, "Though I doubt a 'talk' is going to magically remedy the awkwardness."

"I know, but it's a start, isn't it?"

He smirked; that was such a _Gryffindor_ sentiment. "Perhaps."

"Well, _I_ think it is, anyway." She smiled, knowing that she sounded very much like she had in first year – a snotty little know-it-all. Her smile waned slowly; it was amazing, really, how quickly she had grown up. A mere six years had changed her in so many ways. "And we need to talk about what's happened. Otherwise it's only going to get _more_ awkward. And I don't want that."

"And what, exactly, do you propose we talk about? The fact that you thought you were carrying my child and didn't see fit to tell me, or the fact that _I_ thought you were carrying my child and was too cowardly to confront you about this issue? Or, perhaps, we should discuss the fact that, while the _knowledge_ of your condition was stored in my head, I left you _unattended_ on my property with extraordinarily poor security measures, literally setting you up for an attack." His tone seemed to become graver with each word that passed through his lips. "And while we're at it, why don't we delve further into the issue that I was a complete arse last term? My actions and behaviour towards you were absolutely reprehensible. You'd given me your body and affections and I might as well have spat on you for it; at least _that_ would have been more gentlemanly than the way that I behaved. Why, then, was I so surprised that you ran to the Malfoy boy? If anything I pushed you to him and started this entire debacle myself! Where should we begin? Go on, tell me. _Where_?"

Hermione's eyes were wide with shock; she couldn't believe the vehemence with which he degraded himself. "Severus," she began gently, reaching out to him with her left hand and brushing a tendril of his hair from his face, "That's precisely why we _should_ talk about everything properly. You can't possibly blame yourself for all of this! It's a complicated situation…so many people are involved, and we've all made mistakes…Merlin, I feel so terrible. If I had just stayed out of your rooms that day we got back…" She shook her head. "Yes, you treated me pretty poorly, but I had plenty of opportunities to suck it up and apologise to you for putting you in a precarious position and I was too stubborn. And," here, her face reddened, "I could have told Malfoy to bugger off when he came over at Valentine's…but I didn't and that only made things worse. _Then_ I was too stubborn to come and ask you for a pregnancy test, and even more stubborn to keep my suspicions to myself once we got here…And that was _so_ wrong of me! You had the same right to know that I did. Sod the fact that it's my body – any potential child would have been a bit of you, as well…"

"I can't imagine I was entirely approachable..."

"That doesn't matter. You still had a right to know."

"I agree, but it doesn't change anything."

"No," she admitted quietly, "I suppose it doesn't."

They fell silent, each mulling over the emotionally draining conversation so far.

"I'm glad I took that potion," Hermione admitted a few minutes later, if only to break the oppressive silence. "The Disillusionment Draught, I mean. I'd hate to think that I'd miscarried…" she shuddered, "I mean now, knowing that it was all fake, I can't help but feeling a little…disappointed. If I'd taken that test and it would have been negative, I think…I think I might have been devastated, you know, not knowing that it was all a set up…" She paused, "Does that make sense?"

"Oddly enough, it does."

Hermione waited for him to extrapolate, but it seemed that he'd said all he was going to. She smiled somewhat sadly, longing to tell him that, one day, she should like to do it all again properly; resume their relationship, bond properly, settle down and one day have a child. Of course, she realised that making such a loaded confession would only force him to withdraw from her even more. He wasn't one for great shows of emotion. _Even this conversation must be taxing for him_, she mused. "Thank you," she eventually said, conveying her emotions in her gaze. "I know you didn't want to talk about this, but it's made me feel better…I don't like not being able to talk freely around you."

Preventing him from feeling as though he had to respond, she rolled back over and climbed out of bed, leaving him to his convoluted thoughts.

**-?-**

Severus spent the majority of Sunday lost in introspection; Hermione's candid conversation had left him with plenty to think about. In her eyes he had seen her lingering affections for him, and he wasn't certain how to proceed. It warmed him that she clearly still wanted to pursue a relationship with him, despite the disastrous events of the last term, but he didn't trust himself not to hurt her again. And she didn't deserve to be with someone who treated her as poorly as he might.

After all, what if they were to get themselves into a situation like the one they thought they'd been in only a few weeks earlier? Would she ever trust him enough to confront him with her hopes and fears? Could he, in good conscience, attempt to reconcile their relationship now, not knowing whether she would ever truly trust him? Could he ever bring himself to truly trust her again? He knew that that morning's talk was supposed to have allayed some of those fears, but it had only served to confuse him more.

He knew what she wanted, despite the fact that she hadn't openly told him. He could read her like a book; he hadn't been lying when he'd told her that all Gryffindors wore their hearts on their sleeves. However, the question remained: what did _he_ want? Did he want to resume a relationship with her? Did he want to let her go? _Could_ he let her go? The thoughts whirled about in his head, ever circling one another.

_Blast it all, _he thought to himself, _it should be a very simple decision._

Naturally, it was far from it.

**-?-**

Hermione began to worry when Severus failed to re-emerge for dinner. She knew that he hadn't dealt well with their early morning talk, and longed to find a way to fix everything once and for all. Of course, she knew that it would never be that simple; Severus' pride held him back from truly opening up to her. The closest he'd come to doing so was that very morning, when he had shown just how affected by the situation he really was. After all, his pride usually prevented him from showing any sign of vulnerability; she should be pleased he had opened up to her at all.

But she wasn't. In fact, she was growing increasingly frustrated that he'd withdrawn from her for the entire day. Certainly, she understood that, being the solitary soul he was, he required a certain degree of independence and isolation, but it was driving her absolutely bonkers to be so alone.

After a few more minutes spent forcing her food around her plate with her fork, she set down her cutlery and pushed her dinner aside, now cold and completely untouched. Face set in sudden resolve, she rose from her seat and headed down towards Severus' study, determined to find some form of closure from this debacle, no matter the argument from her surly lover.

She found him, as expected, seated in his wing backed chair facing the unlit fireplace. Despite the fact that he was aware of her intrusion, he gave no sign of acknowledgement. This only fuelled her ire more. Arms folded across her chest, Hermione approached him angrily.

"Your dinner is waiting for you upstairs," she informed him tersely.

"Indeed." He made a slow, deliberate attempt to guide his eyes over her form. "That is a house elf's duty, Granger, and, unless you have become a house elf, you've no reason to traipse all the way down to inform me as such."

Refusing to take the bait, Hermione shook her head. "But I do have a reason to, Severus. I miss you. I worry about you. I care for you."

"Yet you don't seem to care for my privacy," he arched an eyebrow sardonically. "I do not need to be coddled, Hermione."

"But what if I do?" Her tone softened. "Severus, I can't deal with this alone. I need to talk it through. I need to make things right between us."

Severus pondered the thought. "I find it difficult to believe that there was anything right about it in the first place."

"Then perhaps we need to work through that, as well. Come at it properly, you know?"

The Slytherin feigned ignorance. "Come at what, precisely?"

"Us," she responded, furrowing her brow. "Our relationship."

Averting his gaze, Severus swallowed and braced himself for the words he'd been preparing himself for all day. "I don't think it wise to pursue such a venture."

Hermione reeled back as though stung. "But…it was your idea."

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, having anticipated this argument; after all, she had used it before. "I'm only human, Miss Granger," he eventually replied, slowly, as though he were talking to an insipid first year, "I'm not infallible. Clearly, this particular idea was a mistake."

Throwing her hands into the air, the Head Girl screamed, "That's _it!_ We've had this same argument time and time again, and I'm completely over it! You can't make up your bloody mind! One second you want me, the next you don't. _If we do this, Hermione, I'm for life._" She mocked his assertion from the Christmas hols spitefully. "Utter bullshit, clearly. I gave you everything I had to give; my heart, my body...and you took it when you wanted it and now you've decided that maybe you've made a great big mistake. Well, you know what? I've had it. You're more indecisive than a second year Hufflepuff _girl_, and I don't have the energy to pander to your bloody ego and convince you that I love you anymore." At that, she seemed to lose the grasp on her self-righteous anger and her voice broke. "Which I do, by the way. More than I should. And I can't stop." Tears were sliding down her cheeks now, but she ignored them. "But I _can_ walk away. If you ever make up your mind once and for all, you can come find me. But, until then, I'm gone. I can't do this anymore. Not after what we've been through. I told you; I need support through this, and I won't do it on my own." She turned and headed for the door. "I'm going to the Weasleys'. Goodbye, Severus. " She didn't even spare him a backwards glance.

It was better this way, he told himself, allowing her to leave. She'd come to understand that eventually. He just wasn't certain that _he_ would.

**-?-**

The return to school following the Easter holidays was bitter sweet. Hermione, Harry and Ron, having spent the last few days at The Burrow, felt as close to one another as they had ever felt before, and were each loathe to face the beginning of what was certain to signal the end of their official childhoods. By the end of this summer term, they would have graduated; a sure sign that they were adults, each to face the world independently in their respective own ways. Hermione had her sights on university, though she wasn't certain which one most caught her fancy. Ron looked forward to being able to travel for a bit, before taking a serious job _outside_ the Ministry and hopefully settling down. And Harry? He wasn't entirely certain what lay ahead for him, but was saddened by the prospect of having to leave behind the first real home he'd ever known.

Draco and Gregory had spent the remainder of their holidays gathering the courage to face the consequences for their actions, as they _knew_ Severus wouldn't let them go unpunished, no matter how hard Hermione attempted to calm him. Greg had also been plotting away to get back into his boyfriend's good graces, but wasn't entirely certain how to truly go about it. He was utterly smitten with Harry Potter, and knew that, above all else, he would go to the ends of the earth and back if only to be with the other boy once more.

Severus, meanwhile, had spent the remainder of the break getting his affairs in order; he, too, would be leaving the school at the end of the year, never to return. He found that if he focused on everything else, then it made it far easier to forget about Hermio- _Miss Granger_ and the terms upon which they had parted. It had taken the better part of three days to smother the emotions which she'd drawn out of him, and he could only hope that he had the strength to maintain his calm in her proximity. Not that he'd have to spend much time in her presence; he was still no longer her Potions professor, and he could quite easily pass off her remaining scheduled detentions to Argus. Nevertheless, he was a well practiced spy, and if he'd been able to conceal things from the Dark Lord, even under prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus and Legilimancy, he could manage to school his features into stoicism when his ex-lover was nearby. Besides, it was only until the end of June, and then he would be free of that concern altogether.

Sitting in the Great Hall on their first evening back, the Slytherins and Gryffindors in question were subdued and reluctant to join their peers in the excited chatter normally associated with the return from school holidays. Hermione felt ill during dinner, and played with the food on her plate rather than eating it. From his position at the staff table, Severus pretended not to notice. Harry pointedly ignored the notes Greg was sending him, going so far as to incinerate a few as they flew towards him, and Ron tried his absolute hardest to maintain a cheery conversation, though his efforts seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Dumbledore welcomed the student body back for the final term of the year, and then bid them all a good night, sending everyone to their respective dorms for the night. Hermione's queasy feeling increased with the knowledge that she would have to head up to the Heads' quarters and face Greg again.

She dawdled until the Slytherins left the hall, and then waited another ten minutes or so, giving them a huge head start, hoping that when she finally reached her rooms, she could head straight to her bedroom without actually having to see the other Head.

Her plan was almost executed successfully, until she rounded the last corner to find Gregory leaning casually against the portrait to their rooms.

"Hello, 'Ermione," he said, trying for calm and apologetic.

She swallowed and averted her gaze from his, giving him a jarring nod. "Gregory."

"Look, we _really_ need to talk about this..." he tried again, reaching forward to capture her attention.

The Gryffindor sprang away from him like a startled rabbit. "I really don't think so." She said, her tone curt, before turning to the portrait. "Dungbomb."

"Sorry, Luv," replied the woman that guarded the rooms, "But that's not it."

Hermione wanted to cry; that was all she needed right now. "_Please_," she begged, "Please, just let me in."

The woman merely shook her head. "No can do. You gotta have the password, Pet."

Her temper escalating, she rounded on her fellow Head. "Alright, then, what is it? You must know."

Greg offered her a sad smile. "Sorry, 'Ermione, I do, but-"

"_Tell me!_" She shrieked, now angrier than ever. "I don't _want_ to stand here and talk about how you and Draco meant well! I don't want to talk about it at all! _It's_ _your fault! It's all your fault!"_ All the emotions that she had bottled up from the last week or so came crashing down upon her. "He left me and it's all your fucking fault!" She was crying now, tears of rage and emotional pain blurring her vision, beating her fists on his broad chest. "You couldn't have left well enough alone and now he's gone and it's all your fault!"

He allowed her to hit him –it didn't hurt anyway, but that was beside the point- knowing that he deserved her scorn, and also knowing that she needed this release. "I know, 'Ermione, and I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

His apology only seemed to rile her up further. She stepped back, her tears subsiding, a sneer crawling across her features. "And why is that, exactly? Is it because of the pain you've put me through? Or because suddenly Harry doesn't want you anymore?"

The barb hurt, as it was well intended to. "I-"

"Save it." She shook her head. "Just give me the bloody password and leave me the fuck alone."

He'd never heard her swear, not with such vehemence, and now she'd done so twice within the last two minutes. Her eyes were wild, her expression one of contempt, and he knew better than to continue to plead with her in this state. Raising his hands in surrender, he took a step back. "Atonement."

She sneered at that, but stepped through the portrait as it swung open, ignoring the meek "Thank you." from the pictured woman, who now looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Greg watched as she mounted the stairs and disappeared into her room, wincing as the door slammed shut behind her.

Then her words hit him and he sank into the couch with a groan. She and Snape had broken things off. That meant that she hadn't had time to calm him any. And, going by _her_ reaction, he and Draco were _doomed_ when they were to face Snape.

"What have I _done_?" he moaned.

**-?-**

When she woke the next morning, Hermione's memories of her behaviour the night before hit her with all the subtlety of a bludger and she winced, staring up at the ceiling above her bed. The way she'd acted was completely out of character, and she felt as though she'd had no control over herself until after she was safely ensconced in her bed. She lay still, trying to rationalise it with herself. Yes, part of it could be put down to hormonal imbalance as she _was_ currently menstruating (seeing as Malfoy and Goyle's spell had wreaked havoc with her cycle for months, causing her body to overcompensate and struggle to set things back on course), but she'd never behaved like a banshee whilst PMSing before. But she hadn't expected Goyle to be waiting there, withholding the password, and that had also put her on edge. Then he _had_ backed her into a corner and pushed her into confronting the issue when she'd already been at breaking point...so that hadn't helped her to remain calm, either. She sighed deeply; she still shouldn't have flown off the handle and hit him. She was Head Girl, for Merlin's sake! And he'd been trying to apologise, not make matters worse.

She groaned, knowing that she'd have to apologise. Merlin, how she hated her own morals sometimes.

**-?-**

"Gregory," she spoke softly, startling him as she pulled him aside after Transfiguration, "Can I talk to you?"

He looked her over wearily, wondering whether it was safe to be alone with the girl who had looked ready to hex him into oblivion the previous night. Though she _seemed_ to be in her right mind this morning, it could prove to be even more dangerous for him. Thank Merlin she hadn't thought to whip out her wand last night!

"I promise I won't fly off the handle at you," she soothed his worries, going so far as to offer him a soft, apologetic smile.

"Alright," he acquiesced, motioning to the stone stairs to their left. _Stay in a public place,_ he decided, his Slytherin cautiousness at the ready. He sat down on the third step from the bottom and patted the space beside him.

She followed his lead. "I just...I wanted to apologise for last night," she told him, "I wasn't expecting you to be standing there, keeping the password from me, and I guess it all just hit me at once. Which isn't an excuse, I know...but...that's really all I can tell you."

"Well," he replied, "It's not as though I'm blameless either. I put you between a rock an' a hard place, knowing that you didn't want to talk to me..." he shrugged. "I'm sorry, too, y'know."

His eyes conveyed genuine sorrow for all that he'd put her through, and she had to look away. "I know you are, Greg, and I truly don't blame you for-" she looked around, "-the break up, but..." she sighed, "You should have known better, you know. And I'm still hurt that you'd manipulate me like that. Draco I sort of expect such stupidity from, but not you." Her eyes glistened, "I don't think I can just forgive and forget it all yet...but...I want to try to." She squeezed his hand, "And I know Harry does, too."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. He's miserable without you...but, you have to understand...what you did? It's hard to trust you again...even moreso for him, I suppose, with how far he was willing to take things..." Hermione rose from her seat and dusted off her skirt, "Give us time, okay? And no more stunts like last night. Is that understood?"

Greg stared up at her, all his wonderful plans to woo Harry back skirting across his consciousness. He nodded glumly, realising that perhaps it _was_ time to give up on his Slytherin impulses and planning, and do as Hermione said. Far less could go wrong that way, as long as he remained patient enough. "Alright," he conceded. "For Harry."

She eyed him wearily, as though worried that he would still scheme away behind her back, but seemed to be satisfied with what she could see in his expression. "Good." She said, before turning back towards the corridor. "Now hurry, I don't want to be late for Charms."

**-?-**

When the first Seventh Year Potions class began, Severus watched Malfoy and Goyle with interest. He knew from first sight that they were already highly strung about being in his presence, and was waiting for one of them to slip up. It didn't take particularly long.

Knowing that the Professor's eyes hadn't left them since the lesson began, Greg was extraordinarily tense as he prepared the ingredients for the lesson's potion. So tense, that he accidentally sliced one less snow beetle than was required. For the very same reason, so focused on his own tasks was Draco, that he paid no attention to Greg's portion of the brewing process. At the end of the lesson, when their potion failed to turn the correct colour and instead exploded violently, splattering the entire front half of the room with foul-smelling goop because the snow beetles didn't properly counteract the essence of flaxweed, Severus pounced upon the two of them without mercy.

"Three _hundred_ points from Slytherin!" He called viciously, swooping down on them like a hawk. Ignoring the gasps from around the room, he continued on, delivering a punishment that only they knew they deserved. "You are both the most pathetic cretins I have ever encountered! You will remain behind and scrub up this mess manually, with Muggle toothbrushes alone, until the room is spotless! _Then_ you will report to me _every single night_ for the remainder of the school year, _before_ dinner, to receive your detentions. You are _both_ removed from the Quidditch team, and thus your weekends are _entirely_ mine as well. Do I make myself clear?" He didn't wait for their responses. "You will report to me at precisely six o'clock every Saturday and Sunday and will not leave my presence until curfew unless I have otherwise dictated so. _And_ you will each write a twelve foot essay on this particular potion, its properties and ingredients, and why you failed so spectacularly today."

He spun to face the rest of the class. "The remainder of you are dismissed."

**-?-**

The rest of the school had heard about Snape's punishment within three minutes. The Slytherins were on the war path; even after the fall of the Dark Lord and Snape's 'coming out' as a spy, he had _never_ been so harsh with members of their house, especially not for something so trivial. En masse, they had begged the Headmaster to intervene, but Dumbledore had sadly refused, saying that only the Professor who had dealt the consequence could amend it.

Hermione had felt somewhat vindicated when she heard the news, but, at the same time, remembered pleading with Severus to be fair with the boys. Had he been a bit over zealous in the punishment he'd dealt out? She thought that he had. Taking away their spots on the Quidditch team had been fair, as it was only a game and wouldn't really hurt them, but taking every scrap of their private time for the rest of the school year _was_ going a bit overboard. She wondered if maybe she could get him to reconsider...but then thought against it, considering the terms under which they'd left things. Maybe over time he'd change his mind? Merlin only knew he'd done it enough with her...

"He's absolutely bloody bonkers!" Harry's seething interrupted her melancholy and she turned to face him as he clamoured into the Heads' quarters, Ron hot on his heels.

"I take it you've heard the news, then," she said by way of greeting.

"You've _got_ to get him to reconsider!" The Boy-Who-Lived went on, dropping to his knees by her feet and grabbing at her hand. "_Please!_"

She yanked her hand away, frustrated with him. "Stop being so melodramatic, Harry. In case you've forgotten, he's not all that pleased with me at the moment, either."

"But...if Malfoy and Greg aren't on the team, there's not really any point in playing against Slytherin in the decider, is there?" Ron attempted to reason. "I mean, it'll be piss easy to win _now_. There goes the fun of it." He made a flapping motion with his hands, and then waved goodbye in the direction they'd flown.

She scowled at him. "Oh, honestly, Ronald, it's _just_ a game!"

"Yeah, well," Harry started grasping at straws, before stumbling across a different argument, "What about their private studying time, then? There's got to be something in the rules about that! NEWTs are just around the corner! They deserve at least _some_ time to prepare for that!"

He looked so smug with his argument that Hermione felt bad about having to burst his bubble. "The Slytherins already tried arguing that. The most Sev..." she paused, shook her head and sighed, "the most _Snape_'ll budge is by promising that a mandatory number of detentions will serve as supervised study sessions."

"Shit." Ron and Harry chorused, the wind gone from their sails.

"Exactly."

"Well," the redhead eventually tried again, "What about-"

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione threw her hands in the air, "Give it up already! All the arguments have been tried, boys. There's _nothing_ we can do."

"You mean nothing _you_ _will_ do." Harry's tone was sullen and accusatory.

She narrowed her eyes. "What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

He glared at her. "You heard me. You won't even _try_ to reason with him, will you? I think you're happy with his choice of punishment. I think that you _like_ that they're not going to get a chance to talk to you for the rest of the year."

"Harry-" she began, her tone one of warning.

"No, shove it, 'Mione. You could try to fix this and you won't. I reckon it's because you're being a great big coward. Their actions hurt me, too, you know."

That did it. "Oh, really? Did they make you believe you were pregnant, Harry? Did they make you mourn for a baby that never lived? Did they make you actually get excited about the idea of raising a child with the man you love, only to have that dream shot down into a thousand bloody pieces? Did they? Because _that's_ exactly what they did to me."

When he didn't respond, she continued on her rant, her tone calm and icy. "They did it to Severus, too, you know. Made him think the same things, fear the same things, get excited about the same things...and then blew his dreams to smitheroons. And it also made him leave me. We fought because of them. Because of the rift _they_ caused, he left me. I love him so desperately, and he left me..." She swallowed, refusing to allow the hysteria to resurface. "So, yes, in a way I _do_ believe they deserve consequences. You're being selfish, Harry, by trying to make me feel guilty for the belief that what I went through means something."

"They gave you the disillusionment draught! They went _back in time_ to fix things! Doesn't that mean _anything_ to you?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes, it does, but it doesn't make everything better. Despite the potion, I'm still mourning over the idea they put it my head, over the betrayal of them tampering with my body...I'm slowly working through it, Harry, in my own way, but I can't go and beg Severus to change his mind when I'm not entirely sure about my own feelings just yet."

Harry seemed to deflate at that. "I'm sorry, you're right...I just...It seems excessive. You have to agree with that."

Though she disliked being told that she 'had' to do anything, Hermione nodded. "I do, Harry, believe me, but I'm no good to those boys if I go down and stir Severus up by reminding him and rekindling that anger, am I?"

"Well," Harry seemed to consider all the possibilities of her involvement and shook his head, "I guess not."

She pulled him up for a hug. "It'll work out. You'll see."

Merlin, she hoped she was right.

**-?-**

It took an entire month for Severus to ease up and amend his punishment on his own terms. He eventually gave them back their weekends and every Tuesday through to Thursday night, still making them see him for detention every Monday and Friday evening before dinner. They were still off the Quidditch team (and he wasn't planning on that changing), but they were grateful for the reprieve he offered. Neither boy wanted to repeat the month's experiences, and, eerily, when questioned by their peers, neither would (or was it that neither _could_) say a word about the detentions or what they detailed.

Tensions had eased somewhat between Hermione and the two boys she'd struggled to forgive, and things were easing back towards friendship between the entire group once more. NEWTs would be held in exactly four weeks, and so they often used the standardised tests as bonding material, setting up a 'study roster' of sorts, that often digressed into other, more youthful exploits.

From his position as a staff member, Severus was disgruntled to see Malfoy and Goyle so readily accepted back into the fold, but a part of him was pleased to see Hermione healing emotionally. It had been a long time since she'd laughed openly in the Great Hall, or eaten a proper meal. He shut off his emotions quickly with a resolute thought. _See, _he told himself, _she's better off this way._

**-?-**

"Oi," Draco called, approaching Hermione down at the lake after their second last NEWT exam, "That one was _rough_. How'd you manage to get it done so fast?"

It was their Potions theory exam, and she managed a small, sad smile. "I suppose I've spent more time studying Potions than the others..."

Draco could have kicked himself for bringing up the subject. Snape hadn't ever accepted her back into his class as a student, and so she'd been forced to study the subject externally, through a series of Ministry provided materials. With her usual zeal, now sans-professor, she'd put extra effort into scouring the Potions texts available, not only in Hogwarts, but any she could find in the bookshop at Hogsmeade or via Flourish & Blotts' owl order service.

"Well, I'm certain you'll have done fantastically." He sat down beside her and offered her a dazzling grin. "What's left, then?"

She pondered the question for a moment. "Ancient Runes. Theory's this evening. Practical's tomorrow morning. Then we're done." She cast her gaze back out over the water to where the squid had surfaced for a lazy idyll in the sun. "Two weeks left from tomorrow."

"Scary thought, that." He replied, scooting even closer towards her. "What are your grand plans?"

She shrugged, seemingly not noticing his proximity. "I don't know...I want to see the world, go to Uni...the usual..."

"See the world, eh?" He was now seated so that their shoulders touched. "I've just inherited a few properties abroad, what with Mum dead and Lucius having received The Kiss...want to come check them out with me?" She finally dragged her gaze to meet his and was vaguely surprised by his expression.

"Draco..." she began wearily. The flirting, it seemed, had returned.

"No, wait, hear me out," he said, brushing a tendril of her hair back behind her ear, "I know, you're in love with someone else...but, at the moment, he's unattainable. It mightn't be for forever, and I know that, should he ever come knocking, you'll run back to him in a heartbeat. But...there's still a spark between us. Always has been, even when we were firsties and snarking at one another from across the classroom...maybe it's just wanton attraction, right? But, if I'm not interested in steady commitment, and you're looking to escape for a while, why not just head off together for a bit? See the sights, have some fun...maybe even find a bit of happiness between us?" She moved to speak, but he cut her off. "And, if you desperately want me to, I'll invite the others along as well, yeah? Take the pressure off you a bit, so you don't think that all I want is to get in your pants."

She looked at him, then. _Really_ looked at him, taking in his earnest expression and truly thinking about what he was offering. She cocked her head to the side. "And if I never want to have sex with you?" She asked, briefly remembering their passionate couch encounter.

He laughed. "Then we'll just stay friends...not that I'll stop trying, of course."

She took in his sparkling blue eyes and couldn't help but be affected by their mirth. "Of course," she agreed, swinging her arm around his shoulder. "And I wouldn't expect any less from you, either."

* * *

A/N - I know, I know...just remember, there's one chapter/the epilogue left, so...don't kill me. But please leave a review as a Christmas/non-denominational festive present for me. :)


	14. Boy

**A/N - **I know, I've been gone for so long...I apologise, and hope that, this, the final chapter/epilogue, will go towards apologising for that. :) Enjoy.

**Chapter 14 (incl. Epilogue) – Boy**

"Can you believe it's finally over?" Hannah asked as she gave Hermione a hug. "One more hour and we'll be out in the real world, fending for ourselves..."

Graduation was upon the Seventh Years. Hermione forced a smile as she returned the Hufflepuff girl's embrace. "It's sort of daunting, really," she admitted. "I know how to excel in school, but excelling in life? It's a different thing altogether, isn't it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about; of all of us, I'm sure you're going to be one of the most successful." Hannah's brown hair swished about her face as she shook her head. "Today should be about celebrating the end of school, not _mourning _it."

Ron chose that moment to interrupt the conversation, swinging his arm around his best friend's shoulders and squeezing her lovingly as he addressed the other girl. "You _do_ know who you're talkin' to, don't you, Hannah?" He laughed, "It's 'Mione. Possibly the most bookish bookworm to walk these hallowed halls; 'course she doesn't want to leave."

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Thanks, Ron."

Hannah shrugged. "Whatever. I'm just glad to have it all over and done with." She looked around the Great Hall, scanning for like-minded people to sit with for the Leaving Ceremony. "Oh! Look, there's Lavender, if you'll excuse me..." She didn't even spare them a backwards glance as she bounded off towards the other Gryffindor girl.

The Head Girl sighed. "I'm a freak, aren't I?" She asked, her tone laced with melancholy. "You're all happy to be rid of this place, and I'm afraid to let go."

"Nah," the red-headed boy squeezed her again, "you're not a freak. You wouldn't be you if you wanted to get out of here quick smart. "

"That _really_ didn't answer the question, though..."

Ron was about to respond when Harry and Greg made their way over. He seemed glad for the distraction, not really wanting to see Hermione depress herself any further. "And where've the two of you, been, then? Ceremony's set to start in ten." At their shared look, and Harry's blush, he crinkled his face. "On second thoughts, don't answer that."

"Oh, grow up, Ron," Harry laughed, his blush getting even darker. "Shove over, will you?"

The two Gryffindors already seated shuffled over to make way for the new comers. Hermione craned her neck to scan the hall. "And, though I dread the answer, where's Draco, then, if the two of you were off somewhere private? I'd assumed he was with you."

The three boys seated around her also started looking around, as though expecting the blond menace to materialise at the mere mention of his name.

"No idea," Greg eventually responded. "I'd thought he'd be irritatin' you by now..."

"Evidently not..." Hermione shrugged. "Oh well, on his own head be it."

"Oi, I resent that," the blond in question said as he sauntered over. "I was off sayin' goodbye to Pansy and Blaise. You're not my keepers, you know."

The Gryffindor girl laughed and gestured at the seat beside her. "Thank Merlin for that; I'd be prematurely grey by now if that were the case."

He rolled his eyes, "You can be such a cow sometimes, Mudblood."

"And you can be such a drama queen, Ferret."

"Ah, but that's why you love me."

"You keep telling yourself that."

She and Draco had gradually become close friends over the remainder of the school year, bonding over shared interests and, surprisingly, a shared sense of humour. After she'd openly forgiven the two Slytherins for their actions earlier on in the year, he'd become more and more flirtatious, despite her continued refusal to be anything other than friends. Half the time, his amorousness was exaggerated and only intended in jest, simply to keep them both amused, but, on numerous occasions when they were alone, Draco had made it clear that he would seriously be open to a casual relationship between them. Though his antics amused her, those moments when he'd seriously proposition her would often leave her in two minds; he _was_ terribly attractive, and there _was_ a spark between them...but he was now such a close friend that she'd hate to ruin that by succumbing to her hormones. Besides, she still ached for Severus and some part of her held on to the foolish idea that, once she graduated, he would come for her and they'd work things out properly. She didn't want to balls that chance up by buggering around with Malfoy. Again.

At the thought of her ex-lover, she fought the urge to look up at the staff table and see him sitting there, glaring down at her with disdain. How she had longed to visit him during the term! To sit and have tea and argue over the latest theories in their favourite Potions journals. To see how he was faring. To make sure he wasn't drinking himself into an early grave. But she hadn't done any of those things. She wondered if Harry had been right all those months ago; had she been too cowardly? Should she have tried to mend things when she had the chance?

No. She'd told Severus to come and find her when he'd made up his mind. The ball was in his court, now. She was far too stubborn to go against her own word. Besides, knowing the Head of Slytherin like she did, she knew that he was also stubborn, and wouldn't have appreciated her continued meddling.

So she would wait for him. She just hoped that he wouldn't take too long to come for her. If he ever did, of course...

She was startled from her thoughts by the Headmaster casting a _Sonorous_ charm and beginning the Leaving Ceremony. Things seemed to go extraordinarily quickly from there, and, before she knew it, she was accepting her diploma from Professor McGonagall, shaking hands with Professor Dumbledore, and then being thrown in front of the student body to give the annual Heads speech with Gregory. For a moment, she'd thought that her memory would fail her, but after Greg had said his piece, her speech flowed easily from her lips. She thanked her fellow Seventh Years for their friendship, applauded them for their bravery and dedication for their efforts during the War, said a piece for their fallen classmates, and then wished everyone the best for whatever the future would bring. The Hall erupted into applause as she and Greg wandered back to their seats.

After it was all over, and the majority of students moved towards their dorms for their last night in the Castle, she heard her name being called and turned to face the Headmaster.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore?"

His eyes twinkled at her merrily. "I was wondering, dear girl, if you could spare some time for tea?"

She'd actually been looking forward to drinking some butterbeer with her peers in the Gryffindor Commons, but knew that refusing Albus Dumbledore was not a particularly clever idea. She offered him a small smile. "Of course, Professor."

**-?-**

"Albus, what on earth have you summoned me for, now?" Severus grumbled as he entered the Headmaster's office. "I'm in the middle of packing the-" He stopped short at the sight of Hermio-_Miss Granger_. She had the look of a frightened rabbit caught in the headlights of a Muggle automobile. "Just _what_ is the meaning of this?" He asked. "Haven't you tortured me with her presence enough?"

Albus didn't even bat an eyelid. "Tea, Severus?"

"No, I will not have _tea_. I want to know what you're trying to achieve. I've already tendered my resignation, what more do you want from me?"

The elderly wizard sighed. "I apologise, my dears, but I thought you'd been getting along splendidly this year...then, following Easter, you stopped speaking to one another...and I wanted to do what I could to mend that rift before Miss Granger left the premises."

"There's _nothing_ to mend." Snape spat.

"Come, now, Severus, I know that's not the case..." Albus shook his head sadly. "I can't presume to know what happened over the last holidays, but the two of you were so noticeably _happy_ together, and I-"

"What do you mean, _'together'_?" Hermione eventually asked, sheer mortification threading its way through her veins.

"Why, your relationship, my girl. The sorting hat was right; the pair of you are quite well matched..."

"Relationship?" Hermione was bright red. He couldn't possibly know...could he? "I'm sorry, but I think you're mistaken, Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh, pish. I know young love when I see it." He gave her a knowing look. "Please, sit, Severus."

Stunned that his employer had been aware of their tryst and _hadn't_ terminated his employment, the Slytherin complied with the request, dropping into the seat beside his ex-lover in silence.

Hermione, on the other hand, was floundering to make sense of what she was being told. "Hang on a second...you're saying you _knew_ that Sev..._Professor Snape_ and I were...er...involved...and you _didn't_ fire him? This doesn't make any sense."

"Why, my dear child, it was my plan all along to see the two of you happy. As for his employment, Severus was no longer your teacher. Add to that the adjustments I made to the school charter-"

"You orchestrated it all?" Hermione was flabbergasted. Her Headmaster had been playing matchmaker the entire time. She felt ill; was _nobody_ in this school above manipulating her? "But, I thought you were just trying to get him to quit."

The elderly wizard smiled at her. "Not everything is as it seems, Miss Granger." He turned to Severus, now, who was still sitting in stunned silence, taking in the information and trying to make sense of it. "Severus, my boy, I _did_ want you to leave, but not for the reasons you think. You've wasted your youth here, as a spy _and_ as a teacher. I believed you deserved better than a future consisting of solitude, locking yourself away in the dungeons...And, knowing Miss Granger's fondness for you-"

"What? How could you have known..." Hermione began to interrupt, before spying the Sorting Hat, sitting innocently on the shelf above his desk. The very same hat she'd put back on her head at the end of Sixth year, when Dumbledore had told her it was all a part of the process for Head Girl and Boy selection. "Oh."

The Headmaster shot her an apologetic glance. She still felt violated. "I believed that Miss Granger would be the perfect person to bring you out of the drab dungeon and back to life, so to speak." He sighed. "And you seemed to both be happy with the arrangement...not in public, of course, but in private-"

"No," Severus spoke suddenly and with vehemence. He rose from his seat, his anger palpable. "No, I will not listen to this any longer."

"Severus," Albus attempted, his tone apologetic, "I-"

"I will not listen to this!" The former Potions Master swept from the room in a flurry of black robes, slamming the door behind him.

The Headmaster turned to Hermione, but she, too, was standing, shaking with rage. "I trusted you," she spoke softly, "we all did. How wrong we were..." She shook her head and followed in Severus' wake, leaving Albus Dumbledore to his thoughts.

**-?-**

Hermione spent that night curled up on the couch in the Heads' common room, crying onto Draco's shoulder. He'd listened to the entire sordid story as she tried to make sense of the information the Headmaster had given her. He'd known things he shouldn't have known. How? Had the portraits told him? Just how much _had_ Dumbledore orchestrated? And what did he think he would have achieved by telling them so? She felt all the more foolish now for unconsciously following his little scheme, and her heart ached because she knew that Severus would feel just as silly, even more so, which would only make him angrier. She doubted he'd be coming to talk to her about it any time soon.

For his part, Severus was ropable. Once more he'd been nothing more than a pawn for the Headmaster; a toy with which to amuse himself. The older Slytherin had been a few steps ahead of him the entire time, and he felt foolish for behaving exactly as the old man had known he would. Worse, still, he was angry because, if not for Dumbledore's meddling, Miss Granger would never have entered his life in the capacity which she had during the year. Even now, images of her came unbidden to his mind, naked, splayed out on his bed, a beaming smile on her face for simply being with him. He threw the closest breakable object at the wall with a cry of anger. It was one thing to use _him_, but the Headmaster had also violated her by using her private thoughts against her, putting her on a path of emotional destruction with a man twice her age. It didn't matter that that awful hat had been correct, that they were well matched on some levels; she deserved a younger man, _a boy_, who would spoil her with flowers and gifts, take her out on youthful dates, fumble towards a happy future together. A relationship with him, a snarky old ex-spy, wouldn't be socially acceptable, especially not in the Muggle world where she half-lived, and he would never be able to offer her the life a younger man like Malfoy could.

These were thoughts that had plagued him for months now, and each time he had the same spiralling argument with himself. It didn't matter that he'd been happy with her; she deserved better. But she loved him and he...Merlin damn it all, _he_ loved _her_. But he couldn't give her the life she deserved...Argh! It was the same argument, over and over. He threw another vase at the wall.

He wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for that meddling old fool! He'd never have known about the passion, beauty and love she had to offer...that he _had _to give up...if not for that awful, infuriating old man.

More glassware shattered against the stone walls of the castle.

At least, he decided when his temper had faded somewhat, it seemed that his packing wouldn't take quite as long as he'd anticipated.

**-?-**

"Oh, wow, Draco, it's beautiful..." Hermione gasped as they apparated into Malfoy's Swiss chalet.

He laughed. "You said the same thing about the French cottage," he reminded her, summoning an elf to take their luggage.

"And don't forget the Australian beach house," supplied Ron, who had, as Draco had promised, also been invited, along with Greg and Harry.

As though on cue, Greg was next to add, "_And_ the apartment in New York..."

Before Harry could also make mention of yet another of Draco's properties, Hermione laughed, throwing her hands up in surrender. "Allright, fine, I'm predictable. Sue me."

"It _is_ lovely, though," Harry said, taking in the idyllic vision in front of them. It was brick and majestic, snow capping its roof and windowsills, soft light pouring from the windows, looking much like something one would find in a travel brochure or on a cheesy Muggle TV Christmas special. He leant towards his boyfriend and wrapped his arm around his waist. "I think I should like one of these for myself."

"Pretty sure _you've_ said that about all the other properties, too." Hermione stuck out her tongue at him.

"Shut up," he said, poking his tongue back at her.

"Okay, children, let's stop bickering and make our way inside," the blond boy interrupted, moving towards the front door. "Ladies first," he said, stepping aside and gesturing for Ron to go first.

The red head glowered at him, and allowed Hermione to walk in in his stead. "Pillock," the Weasley responded.

A squeal from Hermione had the boys rushing in after her. "Wow," Harry said, taking in the _Happy Birthday, Hermione_ banner and fairy lights set up in the lounge room above a pile of gifts. "I knew it was going to be good, Malfoy, but you've outdone yourself."

Goyle was already helping himself to the spread of party food that Draco had instructed his elves to provide on their arrival. "Yeah, Drake, you've done well."

"You mean you organised all of this?" Hermione turned to face the four boys, pleasantly surprised and touched that they'd do such a thing. They nodded in unison, and she felt herself choke up. "But...my birthday's not 'til the nineteenth. It's only the first."

"Yeah, but you're leaving at the end of this week to go to uni, so we thought we'd throw you a party while we had the chance," Ron said, his mouth full of food, so that she had to concentrate hard to make sense of what he'd said.

"Oh," she raced towards them, her arms extended for a group hug. "Come here, then." She embraced them all at once, squeezing as tightly as she could. "Thank you," she said, closing her eyes to ward off tears. "I...this is wonderful. Thank you."

They broke apart with laughter and jokes to dispel the awkwardness of such an emotional moment, then proceeded to argue over which gifts she should unwrap first.

**-?-**

Hermione stared at the Wizarding photograph of her birthday party –kindly taken by a house elf so that all five of them could be in the picture- and sighed sadly. She was seated at her desk in her private dormitory, having elected to study Potions and Charms at the Wizarding University of London, and, though her friends all lived within apparating distance, she felt so distanced from them. It had been two weeks since she'd left the others, and, now that it was her actual birthday, she missed them even more. They'd all fire-called to wish her Happy Birthday, and to organise drinks for that evening at the Leaky Cauldron, but she still missed the intimacy of spending every day together. Or perhaps she missed spending every day with them because it had been a welcome distraction from the thought of Severus. Either way, she felt lonely and morose. As it was a Saturday she didn't have any classes, so that wasn't helping her mood, either. At least during the week she could concentrate on her lessons, both practical and theory, but, sitting here alone in her room, she couldn't bring herself to focus on studying. Perhaps she should head down to the library on campus and explore it properly? After all, she hadn't really had a chance to do so yet and the thought did cheer her up some.

Putting on her sneakers, she tied the laces, grabbed her purse and her room key (she required both the key _and_ the password to enter her dormitory), and opened the door, only to find a gift at her feet. She looked down the hall, to the left and the right, searching for whoever had left the package, as it was odd to receive things by Muggle means on campus; post owls were far more common. Whoever had left the gift, though, was long gone and she shrugged and stooped to pick it up, taking it back inside and shutting the door once more.

There was no card on the outside of the package, which immediately made her somewhat suspicious. Unsheathing her wand, she searched the parcel for any unwanted charms or hexes. She couldn't detect any, but tried once more to be certain. When the next scan also failed to show anything unusual, she set about unwrapping the gift with all the finesse of a five year old.

It was a rag doll.

But not just _any_ rag doll; this one had dark hair, dark eyes and was wearing a very distinct outfit. One that Hermione had designed herself at Christmas.

"Sophia..." she murmured, running her hand through woollen black locks of hair.

Heart racing, doll clutched tightly to her chest, Hermione raced from her room and down the hall, towards the nearest apparition point. There was a lump lodged in her throat and her eyes stung with the promise of unshed tears, but she raced on, not to be deterred. She was certain she must have looked strange running through the uni clutching a doll like a lifeline, but she didn't care. As far as she knew, there was only one person in the world that could have retrieved the doll from Hogwarts without being questioned, and she had to find him.

**-?-**

Severus was startled from his reading by an incessant knocking at the front door of his Manor. It had to be someone he'd keyed into the wards, because he'd already upped security measures and the alarms hadn't gone off. Whoever it was had better have had a good excuse for bothering him.

He made his way to the entrance hall, grumbling as the knocking still hadn't ceased. When he swung open the door, all curses died on his tongue.

"What on earth?"

Hermione was standing on his doorstep, clutching a doll and crying openly. She flung her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

He took a step backwards and tried to extricate himself from her embrace; they hadn't parted on particularly good terms, and he wasn't certain what had gotten into her if she thought she could just appear on his doorstep and cuddle him as though they were still seeing one another.

"Honestly, woman, get a hold of yourself," he said, trying to pry her arms away.

Something in his tone seemed to snap her out of...whatever it was that had caused her to behave as she had...and she took a step back. "You...you didn't leave this for me?" She asked, holding the doll out for his inspection.

"As I have no idea what you are blathering on about, no."

"Oh." _Oh no_. "Oh...Oh my God...I'm so sorry! I just...Sophia...my birthday...I just assumed..." She wiped the tears from her eyes and fought against her rising hysteria. "I'm so sorry, Professor...I'm just going to go now..."

Severus was confused and, as such, wasn't about to let her go until he had all the facts. "I think not. In fact, I think you're going to sit down, have a Calming Draught, and explain yourself properly." His tone told her that she would have no choice in the matter.

Clutching the doll tightly against her chest, she followed him mutely towards the lounge room, noticing the amount of work he had done to fix the manor. It was astoundingly beautiful, nothing like the dilapidated ruins that had greeted her last year. The grief and hysteria threatened to bubble over again when she realised that he definitely hadn't left Sophia at her dormitory door.

A potion vial was thrust under her nose, a curt "Drink," prompting her into action.

She swallowed the liquid with a grimace, before feeling it start to take effect, immediately calming her and allowing her think rationally again.

"Thank you," she said softly, taking a seat across from the one he'd already chosen. When he didn't speak, she felt it prudent for her to explain herself and apologise properly. "I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your day, Professor. I wasn't thinking rationally. You see, it's my birthday..." she closed her eyes and willed herself to remain calm. Thankfully, the potion was still at work, which made it easier. She sighed. "It's my birthday, and I received this mysterious parcel –no card, no note- and, after checking it for hexes, I opened it to find this." She showed him the doll.

He arched an eyebrow. "Indeed. And you travelled all the way here in tears to show me because?"

She felt her cheeks colour, and hated herself for not thinking things through. "I'd hoped...I mean, I sort of assumed that it was from you." She laughed self-deprecatingly. "I know, foolish Gryffindor, right?" She averted her gaze. "I've spent the last few months trying desperately hard _not_ to think of you. Then this appears and I...I don't know...I thought it was a sign that you'd changed your mind. Obviously, I was wrong. I was stupid, and wrong, and now I'll go away." She rose from her seat. "I'm sorry, Professor."

He watched her stand and, as it had been for months on end, the voice in his head started up on him again. _This may well be your last chance, Snape. Handle this incorrectly and she __**might**__ be gone for good._

"Let's see it, then."

She blinked down at him. "What?"

"The doll. The reason for this whole debacle. Let's see it."

He was well aware that he was essentially repeating words he'd used many, many months earlier, when the project had been thrust upon her, upon them, and he waited for her response.

She blinked again, realising that he was, essentially, offering her a chance to start all over again. "Right," she said, tossing him the doll, "not very lifelike anymore."

He took in the dark hair and dark eyes of the doll, the little stitched smirk on its material face, the cute little Slytherin outfit it wore, and just _remembered._

Hermione, here, in this mansion, chasing a naked toddler who refused to be bathed. Hermione, putting the very same toddler to bed, then taking his hand and leading him towards the room they'd shared. Hermione, telling him that she'd like to have children with him, that he'd make a wonderful father. Holding her as she'd cried, thinking they'd lost that very opportunity...

And he came to the realisation that, in trying to push her towards a future he thought she deserved, _he'd_ put an end to what they'd both wanted. The little voice in his head that he'd argued with for months was blessedly silent; apparently, he'd come to the correct conclusion this time.

He set the doll aside. "You say someone sent this to you?"

She nodded.

"And you thought it was me?"

She nodded again. "Obviously, though, it wasn't." She appeared thoughtful. "Whoever it was had to have been at Hogwarts and have had access to the dolls...had to have known what that doll meant to me...what it really symbolised..."

"Albus." He said simply.

"Dumbledore." She agreed. "Meddling old fool."

He smirked at her. "Indeed."

**-?-**

"So, this is where I'm currently squirreled away..." Hermione said, letting Severus into her dorm at uni. As he inspected the small flat, she closed the door behind her and felt giddy.

They'd talked all afternoon, first making vicious comments about the Headmaster that had made them both feel immeasurably better about everything, and then slowly, tentatively discussed all the things that had gone horribly wrong between them. Eventually, Severus had suggested that he escort her back home, and she had agreed, just glad that he hadn't kicked her out of his Manor at first sight that morning.

Now she was showing him her living arrangements, answering questions about her chosen courses and how well she was liking the work so far. It seemed so strange and yet so right to have him there, in her personal space, flicking through her text books; as though this was how it should have been all along. He sat on the corner of her bed and reached for the photo on her desk, the same one she'd been inspecting that morning. He frowned as picture-Malfoy leant across and kissed picture-Hermione on the cheek.

"May I ask you a personal question?" He asked, not wanting to, but feeling as though he needed to know the answer all the same.

"What happened between Draco and I after school?"

He looked up at her and nodded, bracing himself for her response. After all, her tryst with the boy at school had caused a great deal of trouble, and he wasn't about to go back into any relationship without knowing what he was stepping back in to.

She took a deep breath and sat beside him. "We decided that we'd be better off as just friends." She said, toying with a loose thread on the quilt cover. "Having sex with him is like having sex with a brother...if I had a brother...So, the one time we actually did attempt anything...well, we didn't really get far..." She shrugged, "There hasn't been anyone else. I was always hoping that you'd change your mind and come looking for me...Nobody else will do, really."

Severus sat in silence for a moment, taking that in.

Mortified that she'd said too much, afraid that he'd think she was trying to rush him, Hermione quickly tried to explain. "Not that I'm expecting you to still _want_ a relationship or anything now that we're talking again...I just...Oh, fuck it." She gave up on trying to be respectful and threw caution to the wind, claiming his lips in a searing kiss.

He didn't have to think about it. His hand snaked out and he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She ended up in his lap, her hands running through his hair, one of his on her arse, the other fondling her breast through her sweater.

"Oh, Merlin," she breathed when they parted for air, "Severus...please..."

"Please what?" he asked, a large, insistent part of him hoping that she wasn't about to suggest they take things slowly this time around. That _really_ hadn't worked the last time around, if he recalled correctly. In trying to tiptoe around each other's feelings, he'd pushed her away. Before that, when they'd been passionate, things had been wonderful.

He didn't have to worry, as her thoughts seemed to be on the same wavelength as his own. Seated in his lap, she ground herself against his arousal. "Make love to me. Make things right again."

He was throbbing with the need to do just that, but the logical part of his brain still wanted him to be one hundred percent certain that he wasn't making a huge mistake. "Are you absolutely certain, Hermione?" He asked, his eyes boring into hers. She noticed that they were even darker than usual, and her heart hammered away with a thousand emotions.

"It's my birthday, Severus, and I have the man I've lusted after for the last two years here on my bed, and I'm aching for him to take me. I'm certain. Now hurry up and do something about it."

He swallowed and shifted as she continued to writhe on top of him. "With everything that's happened between us, don't you think it prudent to discuss it first?" Merlin, he sounded like a fifteen year old girl.

She groaned, but realised that it was obviously important for him to know that she wasn't going to expect everything to be all roses again just because they'd slept together. "Okay, let's discuss it. I love you. I'm _in _love with you. We've been through a lot and, though we've got a lot to work through, right now I want you desperately, and I'm pretty certain you want me. You don't have to promise me forever, just the next few hours, okay?"

Knowing that she would have no grand delusions of a perfect relationship when the afterglow had faded, he nodded and pulled her in for another kiss, his hands already moving underneath her shirt to divest her of her bra. "Okay," he agreed.

**-?-**

Surprisingly, the boys had understood when she'd turned up two hours late to her own birthday celebration at the Leaky Cauldron, a shameless grin etched across her face. Draco had teased her mercilessly about clearly ditching them for some shag against a wall somewhere and asked why he hadn't been invited, but had been dumbstruck when she'd responded:

"Oh, the wall, the bed, the shower...Severus is insatiable, but I doubt he'd have appreciated your presence."

Then they'd bombarded her with questions: when had they started seeing each other again? Why had he changed his mind? Why hadn't she told them sooner? And she'd tried to answer each one, but had eventually given up and told them the entire story that had eventually led to him taking her home and shagging her senseless.

Each boy had congratulated her, though Harry and Ron told her to be careful as they didn't want to see her feelings hurt again. She thanked them for their concern, but secretly felt as though the worst was over. If they'd survived what they had, there was very little left that could ruin things now.

**-?-**

"No, you plastic piece of shit...No. No. No. No." Hermione threw the third Muggle pregnancy test in the bin, and wiped the tears from her face. Severus would be by soon, and she didn't need him to know that she'd been crying.

Things had been going really well for two years now, and she thought they couldn't have been happier. Her parents had taken to her former Professor turned boyfriend quite well, considering he was her Mum's age and a whole six years younger than her Dad, and they'd gotten along quite famously, though Severus and Hermione _had_ told them that they'd met again _after_ she'd started Uni and had decided to give things a go after a few coffees at the local cafe discussing Potions coursework, assuring them that, when they'd been Professor-Student there'd most certainly been nothing untoward. Her parents, trusting naive souls, had bought every word, and so Hermione and Severus were extremely careful not to mention anything of her last year of school that would prove otherwise. Not that they really thought about those days anymore; they'd worked through the issues that had arisen, all their fears of mistrust obliterated through months of talking it through. Severus had even attempted to socialise with her friends, something which astounded her to this very day, as she'd been certain that he'd attempt to hex Malfoy on the spot whenever they met.

Then Harry had announced that he was pregnant. Hermione hadn't been surprised, really, considering how touchy-feely he and Greg were, but when she'd been named Godmother, and had held their baby boy in her arms, she'd gotten clucky.

And so, when her period had been late, she'd rushed out to get a few Muggle tests to confirm her suspicions.

Each one had read negative.

She knew that she should be glad that she wasn't pregnant. She was only twenty one, for Merlin's sake, and only a third of the way through her dual Masters degree. She had _years_ to go before she should even start thinking of starting a family.

But, oh, she'd felt so excited for a moment there, already imagining Severus' glee...

She swallowed the lump in her throat and incinerated the evidence, before washing her face and getting ready to face the day.

For all her efforts, though, Severus immediately noticed that there was something wrong when she opened the door to greet him.

"Are you unwell?" he asked, reaching out his hand to cup her face. "You look pale."

"And hello to you to," she attempted to joke, offering him a watery grin.

He frowned. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Honest." She sighed as he walked into her room and sat down, watching her. "I thought you were taking me out for lunch." She tried to sound flirtatious and chirpy, but it came out a bit flat.

"You don't seem to be yourself today and you know how I feel about secrets."

"I've told you, really, there's nothing wrong. It's probably just PMS or something. Now, come on, I'm starving..." she tried once more to convince him she was fine.

He scowled and folded his arms. "I'm not a cretin, Granger, and if you insist on lying to me directly to my face, I'm not going to take it."

She didn't want to fight, but, at the same time, she didn't want to tell him that she was upset because he _hadn't_ gotten her pregnant. Sighing, she stood in front of him and reached for his hands, which he reluctantly gave to her. "Honestly, Sev, I'm fine. I'm tired, and I suppose I'm in a bit of a mood, but there's nothing wrong with me, and I'm not lying to you. I promise."

He stared into her eyes for a moment, then, seemingly convinced, he nodded. "Alright."

Something about his expression told her that he wasn't entirely convinced, though, and she resolved to try and get out of the funk she was in as soon as possible.

**-?-**

Severus groaned and arched up from the bed, delighted in being woken this way. He glanced down to see the familiar mop of curly hair obscuring Hermione's face and its current occupation. Clearly, her mood from the previous day had passed if this wake-up call was anything to judge by.

He reached towards her and pulled her up to his level. "Good morning," he said, kissing her to convey just how good he thought the morning was so far. "Was there something you wanted, then, hmm?"

She smiled coyly, her hand resuming the job her tongue had started, and he groaned again, reaching to assist her out of her underwear. "Woman, the things you do to me..."

Satisfied that he'd completed his primary task, he reached for his wand, only barely noticing her expression shift as he did so. Her hand had also hesitated.

Suddenly, he was alert, and not quite as aroused.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She plastered on a smile and attempted to continue as though nothing had changed. He grasped her wrist, halting her ministrations.

"Don't give me that 'nothing' rubbish," he said, his tone as calm as he could possibly keep it. "You're not yourself recently, Hermione, and that little display just proved it."

"Little display?" She echoed, choosing to feign ignorance. "What are you talking about?"

"You hesitated," he stated, knowing very well that she understood what he was talking about, "and when I reached for my wand you looked..." he searched for the right word, "disappointed? Frustrated, even."

"I don't know what-"

"Add to that the 'mood' you were in yesterday," he continued, cutting her off, "and I'm convinced you're hiding something from me. Now, I will ask you again, what's going on?"

He'd been prepared for tears, but not for her ire. "You want to know what's wrong? I'm not pregnant, that's what's wrong!" she huffed, leaping from the bed and slamming the bathroom door behind her.

It took him a moment to catch up.

"_What?!_"

She was upset because she _wasn't_ pregnant. When had he ever mentioned her _being_ pregnant in the first place?

Stealing up to the door, he attempted to talk her into opening it and discussing this non-revelation with him. "Hermione," he tried, his tone gentle, "Love, open the door..."

"No."

He took a deep, calming breath. "Please?"

He _never_ begged.

There was a moment of silence before he felt her wards come down. She opened the door and peered out at him. Neither spoke for a moment.

"Can I, er, come in?" He asked. She regarded him silently. "Or you could come back out?" He offered.

In the face of his earnest expression, Hermione suddenly felt quite foolish. She sighed and nodded, accepting his hand and allowing him to lead her back to his bed. She sat down on it and refused to meet his gaze, still not speaking.

"Are you going to try to explain any of this, or do I have to guess?" His tone was gentle, and it was nearly her undoing.

She almost preferred him when he was surly.

"Hermione," he tried again when she still failed to respond, crouching in front of her and tilting her chin upwards, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Don't make me use Legilimancy; it's not something I've had to revert to for a number of years now, and I'd prefer to keep things that way."

She swallowed, knowing that he would eventually lose patience and force his way into her thoughts if she didn't suck it up and be honest with him. "I want a baby." The words tumbled from her mouth in rapid succession and she averted her gaze as much as she could, feeling vulnerable and foolish.

He blinked. Then blinked again. And once more for something different, opening and then shutting his mouth, not entirely certain as to how he should respond.

"A baby?" He eventually repeated, in a tone that suggested he thought his hearing might be playing up.

She sighed and nodded. "Our baby," she clarified, smiling ever so slightly at the thought, brief memories of her Seventh year filtering through her head.

"But you're not pregnant."

Considering that she'd yelled those very words at him earlier, she didn't feel the need to repeat them. "No."

He was still floundering. "And you haven't been." He paused, gauging her reaction. "Correct?"

It was her turn to blink in stunned surprise. "What?" She asked. "How could...You don't think it's something I might have mentioned by now?" At the expression the flickered across his face, she scowled and shuffled backwards on the bed, trying to put distance between them. "You seriously think that after _that_ fiasco, I'd keep something like that from you? That I'd be able to go through an actual miscarriage without telling you?"

"What?" Alright, how had he managed to ruin the conversation so horribly? "No! Of course not! You've just taken me a bit by surprise, that's all..."

She watched him wearily, as though trying to assess how honest he was being.

"It's certainly not the sort of conversation I'd expect to have so early on a Saturday morning," he continued, reaching for her hands. She held them out and he slowly pulled her back to the edge of the bed and sat beside her, looping an arm around her waist.

Deciding that he was being completely genuine, Hermione sighed and relaxed against his shoulder, taking comfort in his presence. "I know, and I'm sorry...I hadn't meant to tell you at all..."She paused, "Not that I'd intended on tricking you into getting me pregnant or anything like that, I just..."

"Had hoped to quell your maternal impulses for a while longer?" He supplied.

"Exactly." She closed her eyes. "But...every time I see little Anthony," she admitted, speaking of Harry and Greg's son, "I want one of our own even more..." She opened her eyes and tilted her head to look up at her lover. "I know, I'm still so young, and I've still got four years of uni left, and I haven't even asked _you_ how you feel about the idea...but I can't help it."

Severus hugged her closer to him and kissed the top of her head. "I do believe I've told you my thoughts on the subject before," he said softly.

She furrowed her brow. "When? The only time I've mentioned it before was...oh." And she remembered it, then, standing in this very home, in this very room, on their way to a Weasley family Christmas, Sophia having clutched at him and called him _Daddy_ mere moments before.

"My feelings haven't changed," he assured her, "though, I would prefer to do things properly."

"Properly?" She echoed, arching an eyebrow.

He sighed. "I _was_ going to leave it until Christmas," it was mid-November, "considering your penchant for making the yuletide season increasingly sappy..." He got up and walked to the wardrobe, furrowed about in a draw, then returned and sat beside her, "However, now is as good a time as any."

"For _what_, Severus?" She asked, thoroughly perplexed.

"Hermione, I...I'm not particularly adept at grand sweeping gestures of love, or romantic speeches, but...would you give your hand to me in Marriage?" He extended an open ring box towards her, studying her expression intently.

"Oh," she breathed, looking between his face and the ring in amazed wonder. It was all very out of character for him to make such a gesture on impulse, though he _had_ said he was planning on doing so at Christmas anyway...

"Hermione?" He prompted, having expected an answer by now.

"This isn't just because I want a baby, is it?" She asked in return.

As far as he was aware, proposals weren't generally supposed to be so complicated. She was supposed to have swooned and kissed him and declared an unwavering "Yes" by now. He began to retract the ring. "Of course it isn't," he answered frostily. "I'd already purchased the ring, for one, without knowing about any of that, and asked your father for his blessing, and had planned an elaborate get up to do this at Christmas..." He stood up, feeling rejected and hating himself for being such a fool. "Just...forget I even asked."

"Oh, no, Severus...please...I wasn't saying no..." She lunged for him and attempted to push him back towards the bed. "I just wanted to make sure that you weren't asking me out of any sort of misplaced sense of chivalry or what not."

"What's there to be chivalrous about?" He responded, still sounding a little bitter at the apparent rejection. "You'd already confirmed that you hadn't yet conceived, and it's not as though I've had any concerns about bedding you before wedlock for the last few years..."

"Well, you _did_ say you wanted to do this properly...and I just thought that you might be proposing because I want a baby and you won't have one outside of marriage..."

"Because I've been known to do everything by the book."

"Oh, there's no need to be sarcastic," she smiled at his smirk. "I love you, Severus, and I do want to marry you, as long as it's only because you _want_ to marry me." She paused and recalled something else he'd said. "You actually asked my father for his blessing? You _have_ to let me see that memory in a pensieve!"

Severus rolled his eyes, but reached for the ring box again anyway. "You're going to be the death of me," he said, extending it towards her once more.

She laughed, "What a romantic proposal," she teased, sliding the ring onto her finger and marvelling as it adjusted itself to fit perfectly. "It's beautiful, Severus." She told him, this time entirely serious as she leant forward and kissed him.

He smirked and deepened the kiss; if there was one thing he _was_ certain about when it came to marriage proposals, it was the intensity of the lovemaking that followed.

**-?-**

They married in a quiet ceremony on the third of January. Hermione had invited only her closest friends, pleading with Draco and Ron not to bring dates as she didn't want anything leaking to the press. Neither one had particularly minded, though Draco had teased her mercilessly about her journalist aversion. Albus had been grudgingly invited, though neither Hermione nor Severus would allow him to perform the ceremony. Instead, they had asked Minerva to act as their celebrant, both trusting the older woman implicitly.

Finally on their honeymoon, Hermione lay on the bed in their hotel suite, staring out of the window at the picturesque view. They'd travelled to Australia, and the room they'd been given faced the ocean. She watched as the sunlight glinted off the cerulean blue waves, smiled as white gulls flew in and out of her view, some diving at the water, searching for fish and other tasty morsels. With the windows open, a light salty breeze filtered through the flimsy white curtains and drifted towards her. She could hear the laughter of small children as they played on the pale yellow sand drifting through the air; the sound faded and tinkly. She smiled and fingered her wedding ring.

"Still lazing about in bed, are you?" Severus queried, emerging from the bathroom and halting her thoughts. He was dressed in cream coloured slacks and a dark green t-shirt; the most revealing outfit she'd ever seen him wear in public.

She beamed at him. "I had a very, very exhausting night."

"Well, if you didn't enjoy it, you needn't worry about a repeat," he responded, the ghost of a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

"Now, I never said that." She laughed, throwing a pillow at him. "You tease."

He caught the offending item and tossed it to the nearest armchair. "Says the naked woman in my bed." He waited a beat, before asking if she was planning on getting out of bed at all.

"I don't know; I am quite comfortable..."

"Indeed..." he put on a loud, long suffering sigh. "Then I suppose you don't want to go sight-seeing after all..."

He couldn't contain his amusement as she leapt from the bed and into the bathroom with all the speed of a snitch in flight.

**-?-**

Returning to Snape Manor was bitter sweet for Hermione. It signalled the official beginning of their life together, but also her return to university. She'd had such a relaxing time away, spending every moment by her Husband's side -exploring the world with him, making love in new places every other night, relishing in the privacy of their own little 'newlywed' bubble- that it was almost a letdown to return to the monotony of their real lives.

But, she had to earn her keep somehow, and, as she'd promised her parents, she wasn't about to throw her plans away just because she'd fallen in love and had gotten married.

"Back to uni tomorrow," she reminded Severus, her tone wistful. "How I wish I could stay here with you instead."

He rolled his eyes. "Brewing simple potions for pittance day in and day out? You'd go stir crazy."

She frowned. "I still don't see why you don't branch out into the public sector. You're one of the only Potions Masters who can brew some of St Mungos' most difficult potions, not to mention the fact that you're the only one who has access to some of the world's rarest ingredients...especially those at Hogwarts..."

They'd had this discussion numerous times over the years. Severus believed that his name alone would sully any such business. After all, who would want to buy their most important and critical potions from an admitted Death Eater, spy or not?

When he shook his head, Hermione sighed. "Once I've got my own Masters, Severus, I will make you see sense."

"Once you've got your own Masters, you can start the damn business yourself," he responded, though not unkindly, "Which again goes to illustrate the importance of returning to university tomorrow."

She sighed again. He was such a stubborn man!

**-?-**

Hermione had never envisaged that returning to university would be so difficult. Not the coursework, of course, but her peers' reactions to her choice of Husband. It seemed as though the press _had_ gotten wind of their 'secret' ceremony and had had a field day during their absence. A number of her classmates hurled abuse at her in the halls, insinuating that the only reason she'd done so well in her coursework was her link to Severus Snape. When she'd asked how, then, she'd scored so well in the heavily monitored exams, they'd shrugged and rattled off conspiracy theories about bribes and threats. One girl even snidely remarked that Snape _was_ heavily involved in mind manipulative magic, and that he wasn't above using the Imperious curse. Hermione had wound up in the Dean's office over her response.

"Honestly," she'd reasoned, her tone far from apologetic, "How was I to know that she wouldn't have the good sense to at least _duck_. When I realised what it was that I'd accidentally _knocked_ off the bench, I did cry out a warning..." It had sounded remarkably like '_Take this, you trollop'_ but she wasn't about to tell the Dean _that_.

"It will take her years to grow her hair back," the Dean had responded, "as you well know."

Hermione did her very best to hide a smirk; she _did_ know. It's why she had reached for the Acromantula venom to begin with. No potions or mediwizardry could remedy the effect of the venom's contact with human hair; the awful girl would have to let time run its course. "I _am_ terribly sorry," she didn't sound it in the least, "but Miss Watts' vicious slander and libel had _so _surprised me, that I spun around and the force of that had knocked the bottle...It was an honest mistake." And it was – she'd been aiming for the cow's eyebrows. "And, as I feel _so_ terrible about it, I _won't_ be pressing charges against her and the University for the aforementioned slander and libel against my husband and I."

The Dean floundered for a bit; he'd not considered the notion that a lawsuit against one of his students –and, subsequently his management of the issue- was even a possibility.

"Very well, Mrs Snape...I...I do believe that's settled then."

This time she did smirk. "Most definitely, Dean Florington. You are a wise man indeed."

Oh, Merlin, but had her husband rubbed off on her!

**-?-**

Hermione fell into an easy pattern at university following her meeting with the Dean; her Professors treated her as they always had, and those peers that had taunted her about her marriage remained blessedly silent, clearly aware that Hermione Snape was, in her own right, just as dangerous as her husband. Perhaps even more so, as she was still heralded by outward society as a war hero and all-round Good Girl.

Things remained this way until her final year.

**-?-**

Hermione awoke during the final week of her holidays feeling decidedly ill. She was nauseous and exhausted, and not at all feeling up to getting out of bed. She pressed a hand to her stomach in an attempt to stop its rolling, before opening her eyes wide with realisation; she'd felt like this years before, when that stupid charm had been placed upon her in Seventh Year. Suddenly giddy, she threw back the covers, summoned her slippers, and leapt out of bed, determined to find her husband and hopefully confirm her suspicions.

"Severus," she called as she entered his lab, "are you here?"

He emerged from his ingredients cupboard, a frown marring his features. "What are you doing out of bed so early? Shouldn't you be enjoying your final week of freedom before the horrors of Final Year bear down upon you?"

She grinned at him and pushed her bushy hair behind her ears. "I think I'm pregnant."

Severus paused for a moment; he'd been expecting this for some time now, ever since that initial discussion on the day he'd proposed. Certainly, they hadn't been actively _trying_ to conceive, in fact, they'd discussed holding off on doing so until Hermione had graduated from University, but, from time to time, they had forgone the use of contraceptives in their haste to satisfy their lust for one another. He recovered his equilibrium within a split-second. "Indeed. Sit, I'll prepare the potion."

They'd confirmed her suspicions that afternoon. It was official; within eight months or so they would be parents.

Hermione postponed her final year of University; she would return the next year, assuming all went according to plan with the pregnancy and birth. What followed was a tumultuous time of waiting, planning and arguing, which culminated in the slightly premature birth of Hermione and Severus' first –and only- son. Within three years, he would have two sisters –twins- and within five years, yet another sister, at which point Hermione would decide that four children was more than enough to satisfy her maternal urges.

-?-

It was official; they'd been married twenty years to the day, and had four beautiful, if incredibly individual, children to show for their efforts. Michael, their tall, gangly, spitting-image-of-his-father son, was sixteen, and in his sixth year at Hogwarts, a Slytherin through and through. The twins were thirteen and in their third year; Rachael, dark haired and hazel eyed, gifted with her father's prominent nose, was in Hufflepuff, her sister, Sasha, bushy haired and dark-eyed, was in Gryffindor. The youngest, Evelyn, their baby girl, had started her first year that September, following her big brother –whom she idolised- into Slytherin.

"Pity," Severus mused as he poured a glass of wine for his wife, "We might have had one for each house."

She smirked at him and waited before he took a sip before responding; "Well, perhaps this one," she patted her very flat stomach, "will be different."

Severus choked on his drink; he'd been looking forward to having an empty nest for eleven years.

"_What?!"_

Hermione reached across and patted his hand. "There there...look on the bright side; I think it might be a boy."

The End.

* * *

**A/N-** Well, there you have it. Another incredibly sappy ending by yours truly. I enjoyed the ride and hope you did, too. Thank you to all who reviewed and followed this one through with me.


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